


Playing With Hearts (And Losing my Own)

by Chamelaucium



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bilbo is a player, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, Hobbit Big Bang, M/M, Pining, Sick!Kili, bad language, creepy Azog is creepy, journalist Bilbo, may be triggering - please read Author's notes, meant to be fluff but then angst happened, other LotR character cameos for fun, socially awkward Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamelaucium/pseuds/Chamelaucium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Bilbo Baggins was a flirt. A charmer. And with his head of tumbling curls and soft smile, he was a very good one too."</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Master of Seduction. Stealer of Hearts.</em> Bilbo Baggins has been called all this and more, a product of his ability to get whomsoever he takes a fancy to into his bed before the night is out. A new partner each night of the week, he drops his marks as easily as he picks them up, writing about his sexual exploits for his column. </p><p>But then someone refuses his advances, and Bilbo is more determined than ever to win him over. Especially as Thorin Durin is perhaps the most gorgeous person ever to grace his bed sheets (he hopes).</p><p>All burglars know the cardinal rule: don’t let yourself be burgled while out stealing. Of course, this is exactly what Bilbo Baggins does.</p><p> </p><p>  <strong> Link to art in the Author's Notes! </strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hobbit Big Bang on Livejournal! This story is the product of a number of months' hard work and forcing myself past writer's block and numerous rewrites and edits and checks. I hope it all pays off and you enjoy it! Also, THERE WILL BE ART! I have two lovely artists creating art and I will post the links to it when they post it. My final date is the 19th so it will definitely be up by then.
> 
> Art by the lovely [Lorien](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorien/pseuds/Lorien) is [ here. ](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hobbitstory/works/1652777) Do go check out her wonderful drawings and leave her kudos and comments! I've had a lot of fun collaborating with her ^_^
> 
> More art is [ here! ](http://speakfriendandenter.tumblr.com/post/86422887596/well-heres-my-extremely-late-entry-for-the) Again, do check it out and reblog and like it because the Big Bang wouldn't be what it is without this awesome opportunity to collaborate between authors and artists. :3
> 
> But firstly I would just like to say a few things:
> 
> Bilbo’s behaviour, at least in the first part of the story, is _not_ OK. His uncaring and unfeeling attitude towards those he sleeps with and then discards is not alright and I _don’t condone it at all_ , just so you know. In that respect, it may be a bit OOC - although I have tried to keep them (at least fanonically) in character.
> 
> If there is anything which might be triggering I will put in the A/N. For this chapter, it's only the callous behaviour of Bilbo and the large amounts of alcohol consumed.
> 
> Please read and I really do hope you enjoy! ^_^

_PART 1_

_“Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love.”_

_― Gabriel García Márquez_

 

Bilbo Baggins was a flirt. A charmer. And with his head of tumbling curls and soft smile, he was a very good one too. This had been a rather...satisfying turn of events since he learned how to put his extensive charms to good effect and it was rare that Bilbo ever got turned down.

He was also a risk-taker and all too often allowed himself to be drawn into the bets his colleagues would place. For example, who would be the first person to notice the coffee machine was broken and leaking; or when their Editor Gandalf would _finally_ ask Galadriel out; or -

'Hey Bilbo, you fancy yourself a ladies' man. I'll bet you even _you_ can't get Lobelia to smile.' Bilbo gave a disdainful look at Nori, the notoriously light-fingered journalist and one of his best friends grinning at him from his desk.

'I consider myself a ladies' and a men's man, as you well know,' he said, returning his gaze to his computer and ignoring Nori's knowing looks.

'You think you can,' Nori said, suppressing laughter. 'You really think old Sourpuss Lobelia can be won over-'

' _Anyone_ can,' Bilbo said, looking over at Nori with a smirk. 'It's all about _how.'_

'It's a bet then,' Nori said, slamming his hand down on the desk and sitting up straight. 'If you actually manage it I'll pay the bar tab for the next week; if not it's all on you,' Nori said eagerly. Bilbo shrugged.

'You must be certain I'll fail, if you're offering to actually _pay_ for something, Nori,' Bilbo grinned, keeping his voice bored as his friend scowled.

When later that afternoon as Nori left the building he spotted Bilbo flashing a grin as he walked away with Lobelia on his arm, Nori regretted even trying to be honest. How had Bilbo got Lobelia, the infamously boring and disapproving secretary to Gandalf, to agree to go for a drink with him? It hurt Nori's head just thinking about it.

Bilbo walked into the office the next morning looking like a cat who'd got the cream. Maybe he had.

Nori _really_ didn't want to think about that.

Bilbo smirked as he sat down at his desk opposite Nori. 'Looks like the drinks are on you tonight, Nori,' he said lazily as he turned his computer on. 'Lobelia's putty in my hands now.'

Nori raised an eyebrow silently, looking at his friend in mild disbelief. 'Should we be expecting a happy announcement?'

Bilbo looked positively terrified as he immediately sat up straighter in his chair. 'Yavanna, no! I think I'd die of boredom or irritation, not sure which but - morning, sweet,' Bilbo said, suddenly turning on the charm. His round cheeks dimpled and his curls shone in the early morning sun as he stood up as Lobelia approached shyly, clutching something. She was bright red and seemed to flush only even more crimson as Bilbo used every ounce of suave that he possessed until her ears were scarlet. Nori could hardly muffle his laughter until she left, Bilbo making a face in relief as she walked away.

'She made me _brownies!'_ Bilbo groaned, slumping down in his chair.

'So you didn't keep her up last night then?' Nori had to choke back a laugh as Bilbo looked horrified.

'No, I didn't,' he replied cuttingly, 'and I don't ever plan on it. Honestly, Nori, I have more taste than _that.'_

Nori made a non-committal noise of agreement. 'You gonna share those brownies then? Not all of us have women drooling over the ground we walk on.'

'Shut it, you,' Bilbo laughed as he tossed Nori one of the treats, which he caught - if a little messily and getting sticky chocolate on his fingers. Still, it tasted good; shame Lobelia wasn't as attractive as her brownies or Nori might try his luck with her.

:::

When Bofur joined them in the office that morning, he couldn't believe his ears. His exclamation of disbelief was so loud that Nori and Bilbo had to hastily shush him until it was only his (slightly) muffled guffaws of laughter that carried across the room. Thankfully the office was still largely empty so there were only a few looks aimed their way as they huddled by Bilbo's desk feasting on chocolate brownies - and it wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning.

'So tell me again what happened,' Bofur hissed, shifting his chair closer as Bilbo reclined in his, lazily licking the residue chocolate from his fingers. It had been Bofur's day off the day before so he and Nori had to fill him in on the previous day's...escapades.

'Nori made this bet that he'd pay up at Butterbur's if I managed it. Of course, not one to look a free pint in the mouth, I went over to her desk towards the end of hours -'

'Was she doing that thing with her lips where she looks like she's sucking on a lemon?' Bofur did an impression which caused all three of them to crack up, the result more reminiscent of a constipated meerkat than Lobelia Bracegirdle's "annoyed" face.

'Yes!' Bilbo laughed breathlessly, wiping moisture from his eyes. 'And she looked at me like I was loitering or something-'

'You were,' Nori pointed out unhelpfully and Bofur pushed him, knocking him nearly off his chair.

'Yes, thank you Nori,' Bilbo rolled his eyes. ‘I went up to her and just said "a face like yours was made for smiling" - and I swear that was all it took...'

'Bilbo,' Bofur tutted. 'That's awful.'

'So's she,' Bilbo sniffed even as he ate a brownie. 'She spent the whole evening talking about work and how Mr Grey and Galadriel's relationship is wrong, this soon after her break-up and all. I swear I nearly died from boredom.'

The office started to fill and some of the older, more conservative employees began to arrive - including Otho Sackville-Baggins, who Bilbo noticed looked at Lobelia for a drawn-out moment before turning to his desk and giving Bilbo a dirty look. Hm; perhaps Bilbo could fob her off onto him if she got clingy.

They started working then, Bofur and Nori moving back to their own desks to continue working on their articles. They could still continue their conversation, however, so long as they spoke only in murmurs.

At lunch time, as Bilbo was standing by the coffee machine in the kitchen area, Nori and Bofur cornered him, standing close one on either side. Instantly alert, he set his cup down.

'What is it?' he asked, looking from one to the other.

'Well,' Bofur started, 'Nori and I were thinking.'

'That's always dangerous,' Bilbo muttered, but Bofur ignored that and Nori elbowed him.

'How you succeeded with Lobelia is pretty impressive,' Bofur continued, a grin curving his mouth upwards as he spoke; Bilbo had a terrible sense of foreboding.

'So we thought perhaps you should try again,' Nori said. 'Just to be sure it's not beginner's luck.'

Bilbo snorted. Beginner? He'd been doing this since university. But just as he opened his mouth to speak Nori cut over him.

'So we've given it some very serious thought and we've decided you should try-'

'Arwen,' Bofur said excitedly. Bilbo choked.

_'Arwen?'_ he repeated, glad he hadn't been drinking at that moment or coffee would have ended up everywhere. 'But she's - she's -'

'Too far out of your league?' Bofur suggested.

'You're scared,' Nori crowed. 'You won't do it.'

'I am _not_ scared, Nori, and Arwen isn't out of my league! I thought she had a boyfriend already?'

'Oh, Estel? They split up _months_ ago, over some blonde he met at a club. I heard he's calling himself Aragorn now and he's got a new tattoo somewhere unspeakable with their initials.'

'Then she's probably still hurting,' Bilbo said uncertainly. 'I wouldn't want to make it worse-'

'Hurting?' Nori chuckled. 'Bilbo, did you not see her going out with Lindir the other week?'

Bilbo shrugged. 'Fine. I'll have her hanging off my arm soon enough, you'll see - on the understanding that you'll be paying the bar tab again _when_ I succeed,' he grinned at Nori, who only smiled and raised an eyebrow.

'We'll see,' he said, smiling coyly.

:::

Safe to say, you'd think Nori would learn not to bet against his friend's wily charms. His bank account was significantly smaller the next week when once again he paid for drinks after Bilbo managed _somehow_ to cosy up to the distant, aloof Arwen Peredhel and get invited back to her house. Nori and Bofur shook their heads over it as they watched Bilbo and Arwen leave the pub, their friend shooting them a satisfied glance as he held the door open for his companion. 

Together, nursing their pints alone without their curly haired friend, they discussed at length what it was about Bilbo Baggins that made him so popular (both having, at one point, entertained thoughts about him that weren't suitable for public places).

The dimples? Surely the women were attracted to the dimples.

But Bilbo had been propositioned by plenty of men before too. It had to be his delicate features, almost feminine in some ways.

Cheerfully resigning themselves to being jealous forever, they ordered another round of drinks.

:::

The next week, it was Beorn’s bed he managed to charm his way into. (“He has a thing for honey,” Bilbo admitted as Nori and Bofur stifled their giggles. 

The week after that, Boromir. ("The noise when I blew his horn"... Followed by much cackling and many dirty looks from their colleagues.)

The week after _that..._ Gandalf arrived at Bilbo's desk, looking particularly smug about something. Immediately upon seeing his boss approaching Bilbo straightened, sitting up in his chair.

'Mr Grey,' he greeted, nerves and confusion clear on his face. It wasn't often that Gandalf Grey ventured out into the offices of his journalists and columnists. He was so focused on his boss he didn't see the look Nori and Bofur threw each other before turning quickly back to their screens.

'Bilbo Baggins,' Gandalf said slowly as he stopped by Bilbo's desk. 'How's your work going?'

'Very well, thank you, sir,' Bilbo nodded, all politeness. Gandalf nodded too, silence falling for a couple of minutes while Nori and Bofur stared determinedly at their computers and refused to make eye contact.

'I hear you've been very...generous in the giving of favours,' Gandalf said suddenly and Bilbo cringed a little, running his fingers through his hair.

'That's...one way of putting it,' he mumbled.

Gandalf suddenly caught his gaze with his sharp blue eyes, intelligent and unerringly wise. Although today there was definitely a hint of mischief.

'I think there's potential here. I want you to write about it for the gossip pages,' he said, chuckling when Bilbo flushed and looked particularly confused. 'Not the _giving_ of the _favour,_ if you will; more the...before and after. How you went about getting them, and dropping them. As I know you did to Miss Bracegirdle, poor dear.'

Bilbo flushed even brighter pink. 'I - that was -'

'Oh, I know exactly what it was,' Gandalf smiled, a twinkle in his eye as he turned away. 'I wonder if Mr Rison has learnt his lesson on betting against those with undeniable...talent?' he said, glancing pointedly at Nori, who ducked his head.

'I'd like a draft by tomorrow, please, Bilbo,' Gandalf said finally before walking away in long sweeping strides. Bilbo breathed out a sigh of relief just as his two friends burst out into riotous laughter.

Bilbo looked at them, annoyed. 'What is it?' he hissed, unsure if this assignment was a good thing or not. Just as their laughing began to quiet down the two glanced at each other and Bofur choked as he tried to swallow down his laughter. ‘Why are you laughing? Is this some joke I'm the butt of?'

'No, Bilbo, promise,' Nori assured him. 'It's just...well, I think you should thank us.'

'Thank you?' Bilbo blinked.

'Yes. We told Gandalf there was a potential column for the gossip pages and...here you are.' They grinned at him with identical pleased expressions on their faces and Bilbo sat back in his chair, chuckling.

'Well, thank you,' he said. 'I suppose I can buy you a drink after work.'

'I agree with that completely,' Bofur said.

:::

_Taking Them There and Back Again, by Ring-Winner._

'"A burglar stealing more than just your jewellery"?' Bofur read aloud. Bilbo looked at him and he grinned. 'You're a sneaky one, Bilbo Baggins.' 

Bilbo smiled widely in return, smoothing out the glossy pages of this month's magazine with his first column on the subject on affairs of the bedroom. It was quite different to what he'd been assigned before - mainly the recipe section (not that he disliked that, but having his own column was really rather an improvement) - and he smiled when he saw his pseudonym. _Ring-Winner._ He certainly was.

He jumped when he heard a bang - Nori leaning down purposefully heavily on his desk, chuckling at Bilbo's reaction. Bilbo swatted his arm, which Nori easily dodged.

'Right, Bilbo,' he said, and Bilbo glared at him.

'What?' he asked.

'I think I've found your match.'

Bilbo sat up and leant forward a little. 'My match?'

Nori gave a wicked grin. 'Someone I don't think even you can charm your way into his pants.'

'I'm listening,' Bilbo said, resting his chin on his hands. Bofur drew slightly closer, listening in too.

'I've got this cousin,' Nori said. 'Our families don't really speak much but I know enough of him to know that even "Bilbo the master Burglar" will find him a...a tough nut to crack,' he said, grinning at his own choice wording.

'Really?' Bilbo said, leaning back again in his chair. 'What's his name?'

'Thorin Durin.'

:::

'You know what? I'm so sure you won't manage it I'll even pay for the drinks you buy trying in vain to chat him up,' Nori said when Bilbo accepted the challenge.

'That's nice of you, Nori, thank you,' Bilbo said.

'Thing is he doesn't drink,' Nori cut in. 'So that'll be nice and cheap for me!'

'Bastard,' Bilbo muttered as he threw a piece of paper into the bin. 'You're a right one, you are, you know that?'

Nori shrugged his shoulders, smiling. 'Doubting your ability to do it if you can't get him drunk first?' he teased, riling Bilbo, who flushed.

'No!' he protested. 'But if he doesn't go to pubs how am I going to find him?'

Nori put his feet up on his desk. 'Worry not, my friend. I'll sort it all out. You just concentrate on your charm - you'll need a tonne of it if you want to even stand a chance.'

'Just you watch,' Bilbo said as he returned to his work.

'I'll watch you fail,' Nori promised. Unfortunately for Bofur, Bilbo had terrible aim and the stapler aimed at Nori ended up knocking his hat off.

* * *

 

'Thorin, when are you going to go out again?' His sister stood in the doorway of his study. She'd just put the boys to bed so there was a rare and unusual quiet in the house, at least for now. 'Have a social life again?' 

Thorin stretched, feeling his joints crick and pop satisfyingly. How long had he been sitting at his desk?

'I can't, Dís. You need me here at home-'

'I can manage the boys perfectly well on my own and you know it,' Dís said, joining him by the desk and smoothing out his short hair. 'You're not the boys' father and I don't think they'd grudge you a little time out.'

'They might as well be my sons,' Thorin said in a low voice and Dís paused for a moment in sorting his hair.

'That's beside the point,' she said but he tugged his head out from under her ministrations and glared at her.

'I'm not going out again, Dís, at least not for a long while yet!' he grumbled irritably. 'I've too much work to do and I don't _want_ to.'

'Alright,' she soothed, petting his hair again. 'If you say so, that's fine... But still, Thorin, you've been working all day. Please stop for today,' she asked, looking at him pleadingly. Thorin sighed and rubbed his eyes; the words and figures on the page seemed to be jumping all over the place so wearily he shut the file safely before getting up and joining his sister in the kitchen.

She brewed some coffee, which he gratefully drank as it chased away the weariness from his body after sitting cooped up in his study for hours. As he sipped on the strong drink Dís busied herself cleaning up the dishes from the dining table, passing him things to put in the sink.

'Will you still be able to take the boys out tomorrow?' she asked and he nodded before replying.

'Of course. Fíli mentioned wanting to go to the playground.'

'Kíli -'

'I'll look after him, don't worry, Dís,' he said, smiling softly. 'He's a boy and he'll always be a bit reckless-' Dís huffed in agreement '- but I'll be there. He'll be fine.'

'I just worry...' Dís said, pausing in her clearing and allowing Thorin to pull her in for a hug.

'You're his mother, of course you're going to worry,' he said, smiling wryly. 'And as your brother and their irresponsible uncle it falls to me to let them run wild.'

Dís smirked and swatted him with her tea-towel. 'You haven't been irresponsible a day in your life,' she told him and he shrugged and smiled in agreement.

As he lay in bed later that night, he sighed over the undeniable truth of those words.

:::

The next morning, after a hectic start full of rescuing the boys from burning the house down and salvaging the remnants of the toast, eventually Thorin and his nephews were walking down the front path of the house. 

Before they left, Thorin, one hand ready to push open the gate, looked at Kíli.

'Do you have your inhaler?'

Kíli rolled his eyes, copying his older brother, and patted his pocket. Satisfied, Thorin opened the gate and the three of them set off, his nephews' smaller hands tucked firmly in his own.

Fíli bounced with barely contained energy at his side while Kíli walked more sedately. Thorin asked them about school and their friends until they reached the large park.

Fíli ran a few yards ahead of them as they made their way to the playground area, full of a bubbling excitement until they finally rounded the corner and Fíli darted ahead, entering the playground and immediately heading for the climbing frame.

Thorin knelt down so he was at Kíli's eye level. 'Just be careful,' Thorin said seriously. Kíli nodded. 'Don't lose your inhaler and you use it as soon as you feel like you need it, alright? And don't hurt yourself.' Kíli sighed, nodding, and smiled up at Thorin.

'Can I go and play now please, Uncle?'

Thorin cleared his throat. 'Alright then. Go and join Fíli. Oh and Kíli?' The dark haired lad turned back and looked at him quizzically. 'Try and keep your brother from the sandpit, if you can. Your mother will go mental if he gets sand in his socks again.'

Kíli grinned and nodded before racing off to join Fíli, who was waiting for him at the top of the climbing frame before going down the slide.

Thorin watched him run, remembering the tiny little thing he'd been six years ago, born early and weak. He'd never be as fit as Fíli, but that didn't mean he stopped trying.

He made his way over to one of the benches and sat down heavily, watching his nephews, one golden and one ebony, as they ran across the playground, Kíli trailing slightly behind. He smiled as he saw Fíli head towards the sandpit before Kíli called out and pointed in Thorin's direction, making a scowl so like his own pass momentarily over Fíli's face before they moved over to the swings. There was a lad already on one of them, younger than Fíli but perhaps a little older than Kíli, with dark curly hair. He watched his nephews talk to the boy as they took the swings next to him, Fíli chatting confidently as Kíli tried to get his swing to start.

He was just considering getting up to go and help his younger nephew when someone appeared by his bench.

'Mind if I sit here?' the person asked, gesturing to the other end, and Thorin shook his head. The man who took the seat was young, no older than his early thirties, Thorin would say, and with the most delightful burnished bronze hair falling in curls about his round, decidedly attractive face. His eyes, from the glance Thorin got of them, looked as if they were used to being full of merriment and laughter.

Thorin turned back to watch his nephews from afar. They sat in silence for a while, the younger man checking something on his mobile before putting it away and looking out across the playground.

'It's busy today, isn't it?' the man said, glancing in Thorin's direction. Thorin too threw a quick look at him before averting his gaze.

'Must be the weather,' he said, before cringing _\- the weather? Really_? 'It's nice today.'

The other man made a noise of agreement. 'My nephew can only play when it's sunny - he's got a shoulder wound that plays up in the rain.'

'So you're here with your nephew?' Thorin asked, his gut coiling inexplicably.

'Yes. I rather stole him for the day - not that his parents mind, to be honest. He's quite the bundle of energy when he wants to be.'

Thorin chuckled. 'My eldest, too! Er - nephew, that is,' he clarified, uncertain as to why he felt the need to do so. Irritably he mentally shook himself; especially when the man smiled before smothering it quickly. Self-consciously he rubbed at his chin, for a moment missing the beard he'd had before Dís told him he looked like a tramp and forcibly made him shave it off.

'I'm Bilbo,' the man smiled, extending a hand across the bench. Thorin looked at it and hesitated, before reaching across and taking it. Bilbo's hand was warm, and Thorin was grateful suddenly that he didn't have his tramp-beard.

'Thorin,' he introduced himself.

Bilbo looked as if he was about to say something but just at that moment Fíli ran up, calling for Thorin with wild eyes.

'Uncle! It's Kíli - he fell -'

Immediately Thorin was up and hurrying across the playground, Fíli only just managing to keep up as he dodged running and screaming children to get to Kíli, who he could see sitting on the floor by the swings, the other dark haired child kneeling next to him. He heard him comforting Kíli before he arrived, dropping down next to his nephew.

Kíli was wheezing slightly and holding his arm and Thorin immediately peeled off his jacket to get a better look, to determine if it was broken or not. It didn't appear to be but Kíli did wince when he touched the forearm so Thorin drew him up into his arms.

'Have you used your inhaler?' he asked and Kíli nodded, but Thorin was concerned that he could still hear the air whistling in Kíli's chest. 'Take it again. Fíli, could you get your brother's pump from his jacket please?'

Fíli did as he was bid and handed the asthma pump to Kíli, who used it again and rested his head against Thorin as he held his breath for it to work. Satisfied when Kíli seemed able to breathe again, Thorin made as if to go home before remembering the little lad, who had stayed and watched everything with interest.

'Boys, are you going to say goodbye?' he prompted. Immediately the boys did so, Kíli waving over Thorin's shoulder from his position in his arms, and as they left Fíli called out, 'come back again next week!'

Thorin heard the lad's uncertain reply. 'I will if it's sunny,' he called, sounding troubled.

Suddenly Thorin thought - was this the man's - _Bilbo's -_ nephew? He looked around, trying to spot Bilbo after he'd so rudely run off and left him, but couldn't see him. He wasn't on their bench. He sighed, and set off for home with Kíli growing heavy in his arms and Fíli beside him, throwing worried glances up at his brother, who didn't seem happy to be kept in Thorin's grip.

'I only hurt my arm, uncle,' he grumbled. 'I can still walk.'

Thorin didn't want him to hurt himself any further but he set him down gently, holding tightly to his uninjured hand while Kíli tried not to jostle his hurt arm. Thorin tried not to worry when it was still hurting by dinnertime and a huge dark bruise had formed.

Dís wasn't going to be pleased.

* * *

'I told you you couldn't do it,' Nori crowed triumphantly over the phone when he'd rung Bilbo to see how his meeting with Thorin had gone. 

'Well it's not _my_ fault his nephew got injured and he just ran off and left!' Bilbo argued. 'What was I supposed to do then?' Bilbo smiled as he remembered seeing Thorin before speaking to him, how self-conscious he'd been and the smile...that smile had nearly stopped his heart. 'You didn't tell me he was quite so good-looking, though,' Bilbo said accusingly. 'I swear his eyes shouldn't be allowed. Especially in the sun, and his _hair...'_

'Many a girl has fallen prey to their charm,' Nori sniggered.

'He's like a god,' Bilbo said, still unable to believe it. 'God of gorgeousness.'

'While you're all sweet and soft like a little cherub,' Nori laughed.

'Shut up, Nori!' Bilbo protested. 'I'm not a cherub.'

'Everyone loves cherubs,' Nori pointed out and Bilbo would have said something rude if there hadn't been little ears in the vicinity.

'Didn't you say Frodo arranged to meet the nephews again?' Bofur's voice sounded from the mobile.

'Ye- wait, Bofur, what are you doing there?'

'I'm with Nori. We're watching the rugby together.'

'Since when do you watch rugby?'

'Since you started going on extremely important assignations and I needed to be with Nori to get all the details,' Bofur said and Bilbo could just _see_ the grin he'd be wearing.

'Huh. Yes, somehow Frodo just happened to make friends with them - honestly, I swear I didn't set it up - Prim would kill me if she thought I was corrupting her son.'

'Hmm,' Nori made a non-committal noise. 'So are you going to go back next week?'

'If Prim will let me have Frodo again for the day,' he sighed. 'Although I don't think that'll be a problem.'

'I'll find out some more stuff for you by Monday - the least I can do is give you a fighting chance,' Nori promised, a grin evident even in his voice. A sudden noise sounded in the background. 'Oh, the Bulls have just scored. I'll speak to you later, Bilbo!'

Nori hung up. Bilbo smiled as he put his phone away. 'You don't even like rugby,' he murmured, grinning. He turned to his nephew. 'Say, Frodo, why don't we go get something to eat?'

* * *

 

Thorin spent the rest of the day joining his nephews in the living room, playing Lego with them. Kíli's arm wasn't badly hurt and as long as he kept it moving so it didn't go stiff, he'd be fine. He was due to see the doctor again soon, to see if they could find a reason for the dark bruises that bloomed across Kíli's skin so easily, even when he didn't remember hurting himself. 

As Thorin lay in his bed that night, trying to sleep, the image of Bilbo's merry eyes kept finding its way back to his head. He tried to block it out, irritated with himself - he'd met Bilbo for all of five minutes, and suddenly he was impossible to keep out of his head. He sighed in the darkness; perhaps Dís was right and he needed to get out more. The thought seized him with a sudden fear - he wasn't good at being _social_ in general, and the thought of going out with the _sole purpose_ of being social made him freeze.

Perhaps that was a pretty good indicator that he _had_ to get out more. He sank further down into his bed. He'd think about it more in the morning, when his head wasn't quite so full of laughing green eyes and hair that looked like molten bronze.

:::

The week passed quietly - well, as quietly as it ever did in the Durin household what with Fíli and Kíli wailing like banshees half the time - in a flurry of school runs and workloads and bed times. Thorin was near exhausted when the weekend came again and on Friday night, Fíli curled up on the sofa next to him. 

'Uncle, please would you take us to the park again tomorrow?' he asked quietly, eyes wide; Thorin had never been able to deny those eyes.

'Of course, lad,' he said, tucking his arm more firmly around his older nephew. 'I'm sure your mum will be glad to be rid of you for a while.'

Fíli gave a small laugh as Thorin pressed his forehead to his. They sat like that for a minute before Thorin asked, 'you know that boy you met last week? The one who said he'd come back if it was sunny? Who was he?'

'He's called Frodo,' Fíli said, fiddling with Thorin's cuffs. 'He said he had a sore shoulder that was worse when it rained or was cold so he couldn't play. Do you think it'll be sunny tomorrow?' he suddenly said, looking at Thorin for confirmation.

'I'm sure it will be,' Thorin reassured him, ignoring the flash of recognition, before lifting him up and carrying him to his and Kíli's shared room, reading them a bedtime story until Kíli was the first to drop off.

All the while, he was paying no mind to the fact that he now knew the man he'd met, Bilbo, was the uncle of Fíli and Kíli's new friend. He almost smiled at the irony, except it was more of a grimace; he'd known the man for all of half an hour and suddenly was having dangerous thoughts about how he almost wouldn't mind becoming social if it was Bilbo he was being social with. He forced those thoughts out of his mind; he was needed here at home, with his sister and his nephews, not out at bars or clubs or _social places_. He needed to clear his head, so he made his way to bed not long after his nephews.

The next morning Thorin was up early, making fried eggs and bacon while Dís teased him that he was becoming domestic. He tried not to look out of the window too much to see if it was sunny or not and certainly did not feel anything other than a passive pleasure at the fact the sun was shining.

Eventually the boys were ready and they set off, having ascertained that Kíli was in possession of his asthma pump, and they made their cheerful way to the park and the playground within, a stream of parents and children also headed there. At this rate Thorin doubted the likelihood of getting a seat on one of the benches; perhaps if he glared enough...?

Once Fíli and Kíli had dumped their coats with him, the weather unseasonably warm for mid-April, he managed to find a spot on a bench over on the far side of the playground, a little too near the toilets for his liking but grateful there was a seat anyway. One other parent sat at the other end, a mother who gave him a small smile as he sat.

Thorin was staring out, watching his nephews and brooding when suddenly a voice broke into his thoughts, just like it had a week ago.

'Anyone would think you liked me, Thorin,' it said and he looked up to find Bilbo, golden hair almost a halo as he stood backlit by the sun. 'Fancy seeing you here again!' His voice was full of amusement as he spoke and Thorin flushed, forcing himself to say something, _anything_.

'Bilbo,' he said, and mentally cursed himself when he sounded pleased...eager. 'I didn't think you'd be here again anytime soon.'

'Well, apparently my nephew enjoys my company enough to want me to take him out and my cousins can't complain, especially not as he appears to have made some friends last week... Mind if I sit down?' he suddenly asked and Thorin quickly moved his nephews' jackets from where they'd been placed on the bench beside him, Bilbo taking their place.

'Yes,' Thorin said, forcing his tongue to keep functioning. 'I think I can help you there.' Bilbo looked at him sharply and Thorin was once again struck by those eyes. 'It was my nephews. Fíli and Kíli.'

Recognition dawned in Bilbo's eyes as he seemed to take this in. 'Of course, I remember now. One of them had fallen, isn't that right?'

'Kíli, the younger,' Thorin nodded.

'What a coincidence,' Bilbo said with a smile that made Thorin think it almost wasn't a coincidence at all. He looked away in case he flushed red, which he felt was all too much of a possibility at this rate.

'Is that them over with Frodo now?' Bilbo asked suddenly. 'By the sandpit?' He gestured over in that direction and Thorin followed his gaze.

They were indeed with the little boy from last week - _Frodo -_ and to Thorin's dismay Fíli had taken his shoes and socks off and was in the sand. He let out a small groan.

'My sister's going to kill me,' he said and felt Bilbo laugh beside him.

'Why?'

'Fíli's in the sandpit. He'll be trailing that stuff all the way home,' Thorin said, gesticulating wildly in the general direction of the sand.

'It's not that bad,' Bilbo chuckled. 'My cousins - Frodo's parents - told me that once when Frodo was very little he sat on a cow-pat.'

Thorin couldn't stifle the chuckle that escaped him then. That was certainly worse than sand, he supposed; he was grateful to the sun as he could simply blame it for the way his skin was surely tinted pink with blush now. Suddenly the young lad in question came scurrying up to Bilbo, Fíli and Kíli hot on his heels when they saw Thorin.

'Uncle Bilbo, uncle Bilbo,' Frodo crowed as he approached. 'Could we get ice cream?'

'Frodo Baggins, put your shoes on!' Bilbo said, voice suddenly firm. 'You know what your mother says about going barefoot.'

Grumblingly Frodo complied, pulling his shoes on reluctantly while Fíli and Kíli repeated the request to their uncle too. Bilbo laughed beside him and Thorin ignored quite how much he liked that sound.

'Why not?' Bilbo asked when Frodo had his shoes on once again. 'Come on lads, I'll get you something-'

'Nonsense,' Thorin interrupted, standing. 'Let me-'

'You can stay here and look after the things,' Bilbo said in the voice he'd used for Frodo only a minute earlier; for such a small man he certainly had an authoritative voice and Thorin found himself sitting back down, watching as Bilbo walked off surrounded by three excited children to the ice cream stand, shooting Thorin a coy smile as he left which made Thorin's mouth dry.

Bilbo had left him with his things. He evidently didn't think Thorin capable of such things or it just wasn't important, but Thorin found himself hoping it was the former. He flushed irritably then, trying to rid his head of this nonsense. Honestly, he was just a quiet, lonely uncle who had one thing in common with Bilbo; they barely knew each other. Thorin was going to have to _stop_ this.

He quickly masked his expression with one of fatherly tenderness as his nephews walked alongside Bilbo with their ice lollies and cones and chocolate flakes. He dreaded to think of how much they cost.

When they arrived back Bilbo smiled. 'We got one for you,' he said lightly, handing Thorin an ice cream cone. 'The boys said you liked vanilla best.'

'I - thank you,' he said, accepting the proffered dessert. 'How much? I'll pay you back -'

'Nonsense,' Bilbo grinned as he sat back down, licking at his ice cream. 'You can make it up to me by telling me if I get ice cream on my face.' He gave Thorin such a look of amusement that Thorin immediately turned to his own ice cream, not liking what those eyes and lips made him feel.

They ate in silence, the ice pleasantly cool in the heat of the day while the lads sat a little way off chattering nineteen to the dozen.

'Why do you like vanilla?' Bilbo piped up suddenly and Thorin looked at him in surprise. 'Sorry, that was a stupid question-'

'No, it's ok,' Thorin found himself replying. 'It's...simple. Clean. I just like the simplicity, I guess.' Bilbo smiled. 'Why do you have chocolate?'

Bilbo glanced at his ice cream as if it were the first time he'd noticed he had one. 'I guess it's just how I like my partners. Dark and rich,' he grinned and looked at Thorin, who looked away for fear of blushing. 'I've embarrassed you,' Bilbo chuckled. 'I'm sorry-'

'Don't worry,' Thorin reassured him. 'Although maybe you should about the...' he waved a hand around the direction of his own mouth, where Bilbo had managed to get a spot of ice cream. His mouth went dry when instead of just reaching up and wiping it away Bilbo licked it off, seemingly completely innocently. Was Thorin imagining that brief hint of a smirk quirking his lips upwards..?

He was exceedingly grateful when his mobile vibrated with a text from Dís, giving him an excuse to look away from Bilbo as he fumbled with the keys on the mobile. He scanned the message and stood up, looking to locate the boys.

'Everything alright?' Bilbo asked.

'Oh, yes, it's just my sister. We've got some...unexpected guests,' he replied, picking up the boys' jackets.

'I see,' Bilbo said, his face crinkling into a smile.

Thorin called Fíli and Kíli over and quickly handed them their jackets; they scampered back to Frodo to say goodbye.

'Will we see you next week?' Bilbo asked, looking up at him. 'I rather enjoy this.'

'I...' Thorin said, fumbling for words. 'I don't know-'

'Can I meet you after work one day?' Bilbo interrupted him, standing. He still had to crane his neck, the top of his curls only reaching Thorin's chin. 'When there are no kids around?'

Thorin was definitely not imagining the smirk or the interest he saw in Bilbo's laughing green eyes, and it was enough to make him lose his train of thought entirely.

Bilbo suddenly looked away, fishing in his pocket until he pulled out paper and a pen and scribbled something down before pressing the paper into Thorin's hand.

'Text me when you finish on Monday,' he said. 'Even if it's to say no.'

Wordlessly Thorin accepted the slip of paper and tucked it safely into his breast pocket before being led away by Fíli and Kíli.

'I finish at five!' Bilbo called after him, laughing, and Thorin couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he waved goodbye.

* * *

'He _accepted_ your number?' Nori sounded vaguely impressed. 'Normally he never does.'

'Well, he did,' Bilbo said smugly. 'Oh, you should have seen him - the poor thing didn't know where to look half the time and spent most of the time blushing.'

'He - _Thorin_ blushed?'

Bilbo hummed in confirmation. 'It was all rather sweet, really.'

' _Swe_ \- Bilbo, Thorin is not _sweet_! He's a cold man with absolutely no interest in relationships at all!' Nori sounded shocked and more than a little confused.

'Well, looks like he is now,' Bilbo said triumphantly, smirking at the disbelief in his friend's voice. 'Regretting your choice of mark, Nori?'

'No,' Nori replied stubbornly. 'He won't fall for you, you'll see. He won't meet you for drinks, I can tell you now.'

'We'll see,' Bilbo said smugly. A sudden crash followed by a muffled curse in a voice that wasn't Nori's suddenly sounded from the other end of the phone. 'Let me guess,' he said, and couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice, 'Bofur's there to watch the rugby again?'

'No,' Nori said haughtily. 'We're watching cricket this time.' He sighed. 'He's just dropped a coffee cup.'

Bilbo could just make out Bofur's voice in the background cheerfully saying, 'well, it could have been worse.'

'I'll let you go, Nori. Don't want you to neglect your game of cricket.'

'Shut up,' Nori said and Bilbo laughed.

'I'll see you on Monday,' he said and hung up. 'Frodo, eat your peas! Your mother'll kill me if you don't.'

* * *

They didn't have unexpected guests. 

They had a meeting with the doctor.

Dís had received a telephone call saying that the doctor who'd seen Kíli had something he needed to discuss with them and it was with some trepidation that Dís agreed, calling Thorin and the boys back in time for the appointment later.

The four of them arrived at the hospital, Kíli growing quiet as he recognised the place and Fíli holding tightly to his younger brother's hand. While they waited Fíli coaxed Kíli into playing with the toys with him and the sight lessened the worry only ever so slightly.

'They wouldn't call us in here unless it was important,' Dís whispered to Thorin so the boys wouldn't hear. 'And if it's important it's usually bad -'

She stopped when a red-haired nurse stepped out into the waiting room.

'Dr Thranduil is ready for you now,' she said, smiling.

Feeling slightly sick Thorin stood and helped Dís up, shepherding the boys forward until the nurse stopped him and spoke quietly. 'Mr Durin, it might be best if the boys stay outside for a moment. I'll look after them until you're ready.'

Mutely Thorin nodded, the sick feeling intensifying until he thought he might actually be sick. He heard the nurse introducing herself to the boys as Tauriel and then he and Dís entered the doctor's office.

Dr Thranduil stood to meet them. He was tall and looked permanently exhausted but he smiled readily enough. 'Thank you for coming on such short notice. I thought you might prefer to hear this sooner rather than later.'

Thorin felt Dís stiffen beside him and he gripped her hand, almost wincing when she clutched back at his with a vice-like grip.

'What is it?' she asked, fear evident in her voice. Her face was pinched and she looked a little grey; Thorin squeezed her hand to try and soothe her.

Dr Thranduil had Kíli's notes up on the computer beside him and he sighed heavily. He opened his mouth and Thorin's heart seemed to quicken.

'We've got the results back from the lab of the blood samples we took from your son. They weren't entirely conclusive but based on the results and taking into account the other symptoms your son is experiencing, there is a high chance that Kíli is suffering from leukaemia.'

Thorin's heart stopped.

'Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia is the most common cancer among children and it could account for the easy bruising, the pains and the slightly high white blood cell count. I'm sorry,' he said softly, but Thorin barely heard him. He was too busy trying to keep calm, to not be sick, anything but faint. Dís was still frozen beside him, incapable of anything, and Thorin tried to speak up.

'But it's...it's not certain?' he managed to get out. 'He could be fine?'

'The results are ambiguous,' Thranduil agreed, 'and there may be another explanation but this seems the most likely. Especially as Kíli was born early; it increases the risk of complications such as this later in life.'

Thorin nodded, swallowing thickly. 'When will we find out? For certain?'

'We'll need to run some more tests - get some more blood samples - and we can give you an answer a few weeks after we get the blood. I'm so very sorry,' Thranduil said again and Thorin just nodded again, like the nodding dogs they sold in all the souvenir shops. That's what he felt like - frozen in place apart from his ridiculously bobbing head. Beside him Dís still hadn't said anything.

'You can go next door until you're ready to see the boys,' Thranduil said kindly. 'I promise you we will do everything we can to help you. Do you have any more questions?' Thorin shook his head as he stood up, leading Dís across to the door leading to the quiet room. 'Thank you, Doctor,' he said gruffly; Thranduil just nodded, and they entered the room.

Once the door shut behind them Dís broke down, losing her composure utterly. She clung to her brother as if her life depended on it and tears streamed down her face.

'What do we tell them?' she whispered once the tears refused to come, voice rough.

'Just that Kíli's poorly,' Thorin said, wanting to curl into a ball. Kíli was _six,_ for Mahal's sake - 'He's poorly and he'll need to come back to the hospital again. That he needs to be careful.'

They sat there clutching at each other a while longer, just as they had after the deaths of their father and brother and Dís' husband until it was only them, just the two of them with two little boys asking where their daddy was. They'd survived that; they could survive this.

Dís' eyes were only a little red when they went back out, trying to act as if nothing had happened. Kíli was sitting next to the nurse while she told him and Fíli a story; he jumped up and threw himself at his mother when they appeared. As they were leaving Tauriel stopped them.

'They need normality. Until things are confirmed, just keep on as you normally do.'

She said goodbye to the boys, Kíli looking particularly disappointed at leaving her but cheering up considerably when they got out of the hospital.

And to think that only a few hours previously Thorin had been eating ice cream in a playground with no more cares in the world than Fíli getting sand in his shoes and not saying something stupid in front of Bilbo.

:::

The boys noticed something was wrong with their mother and uncle, but neither asked about it, recognising the downward turn of Dís' set jaw and permanent glassiness of her eyes as if she could cry at any minute. A couple of times she nearly did; in the middle of serving dinner, or washing up, she'd drop what she was doing and hurry out of the room, leaving Thorin to pick up where she left off. 

When Monday came around and Kíli hurried downstairs in his school uniform just as usual, Thorin saw the slight hesitance in Dís gaze.

'Normality,' he reminded her quietly. 'That's what they need.'

So he drove them to school before going on to work; if he was a little more distracted than usual then he tried not to let it show, focusing on keeping busy - anything to keep the terrible thoughts whirling in his head. Kíli pale in a hospital bed, Kíli wasting away, Fíli alone on his way to school-

Thorin closed his eyes against the thoughts, instead thinking about how the boys had run enthusiastically into school that morning. They were both fine, they would be fine.

Suddenly he remembered - _Bilbo!_ He was meant to be meeting him. He'd completely forgotten to add his number to his contacts, too preoccupied with Kíli, and the paper was in his other jacket. His jacket at home. He let out a groan. He had to let Bilbo know he couldn't meet him - he couldn't, after all, not with everything so uncertain.

Head in his hands, he knew there was only one thing for it. He rang Dís.

'Thorin?' She seemed concerned that he should be ringing not long after lunch.

'Dís, I... This is really stupid. In my jacket, there's a number on a little piece of paper, which I need. Please would you get it for me and read it out?'

He thanked Mahal that Dís didn't work on Mondays.

She did as he asked, her interest piqued. 'Whose number is it?' she asked, intrigued.

'No one's,' he replied, knowing he'd be getting a grilling tonight. 'Just please, what is it?'

'Alright, alright,' she laughed. She read out the number and Thorin jotted it down, before thanking Dís. 'You'll have to tell me about them tonight,' she said and Thorin could tell she was grinning.

'Alright, Dís,' he sighed audibly. 'I'll see you later.'

When Dís had hung up he entered Bilbo's number into his phone, pointedly ignoring the way his stomach was prickling when he thought about Bilbo. What would he think when he got the message? Would he be upset? Or just shrug it off and laugh that he'd even thought about asking out a tired, ridiculous old man?

He should just end it - whatever 'it' was - now. He should give up any thoughts to a relationship now, because while Kíli was ill and Dís was on the verge of losing it, someone had to be there to hold their makeshift little family together. He wasn't the boys' father but he loved them as fiercely as if he was, and he would do nothing that could be detrimental to them. He couldn't agree to meeting Bilbo - or anyone - today or any time.

He typed out a message.

He switched his phone off for the rest of the day, ignoring the pang that shot through him when five o'clock came and went. And at six o'clock he made his way home, purposefully paying no mind to the fact he could be with Bilbo.

His family came first.

* * *

 _Bilbo, it's Thorin here. I'm really sorry, but I won't be able to make it tonight. Or any night. Things are...complicated, and I need to be with my family_

_I'm sorry. Thank you for the offer._

The message came through at just after one, as Bilbo was eating his lunch. He checked it and read it through; then re-read it again before putting the phone down and continuing with his lunch. A strange mix of emotions were running through him - some admittedly less honest than others. He'd liked Thorin - a bit painfully shy at times but it had been so fun teasing him in the park. Then there was a vein of stubbornness too, and no small amount of exasperation - he _had_ to win this bet. He didn't want to lose face to Nori.

Neither Bofur nor Nori looked up when he checked the message, but they did at his stillness after he put the phone down.

'Everything alright, Bilbo?' Bofur asked, concerned.

'Yep,' he said cheerily, although it must have sounded at least slightly false. He returned to his food, ignoring his friends until Nori asked, 'is it Thorin?'

He couldn't help the flicker of recognition that crossed his face before he staunchly denied it.

'It is, isn't it?' Nori laughed.

'So, is he meeting you? Where?' Bofur asked, sounding genuinely excited.

Bilbo hesitated for just a moment too long and Nori narrowed his eyes. 'He's not, is he?'

Bilbo said nothing.

'Well, that looks like I just won the bet,' he said happily but Bilbo quickly protested.

'No, just you watch, Nori, I'll do it! You've seen what I can do - give me enough time and I'll have Thorin Durin on his knees, _begging_ to have me!' Bilbo shot back.

Nori looked thoughtful but, as Bilbo knew it would, the lure of a good bet proved irresistible to his friend.

'Fine,' Nori said. 'I'll give you two weeks.'

'Deal,' Bilbo agreed. He looked back at his phone, screen blank, before replying to Thorin. What do you say when you've just been rejected - completely?

Well, Bilbo was even more determined now to win Thorin over; if he could get a pleasant tumble out of it too then so much the better.

At least he had Thorin's number now.

:::

His column was successful. It appeared to have even been mentioned in some of the fan mail; overall things were good.

He hadn't heard from Thorin again - not that he'd expected to, the man had after all decided that he wanted nothing to do with him - and it was frustrating him to not know where to go from here. He knew next to nothing about the man, other than which park he frequented with his nephews, and he hadn't seen him the past two times he'd taken Frodo there just on the off-chance Thorin was there.

Which is why Bilbo found himself asking Nori.

'You say he's your cousin?'

'A distant one, yes,' Nori replied lazily.

'So you can find out where he goes to the pub? Or clubs?'

'He doesn't drink, Bilbo, remember,' Nori looked at him pointedly. 'Not since his father and brother died in a house fire caused by someone having a bit too much.'

'Alright, so not a pub then. Coffee shops?'

Nori inhaled sharply. 'I suppose I _might_ be able to find out for you - ow!' he protested as Bofur flicked his ear. 'What was that for?'

'Stop teasing the poor thing,' Bofur grinned. 'Just because you're jealous Bilbo's better-looking than you.'

'I am _not- ow!'_ he protested again when Bilbo flicked his ear this time. 'Honestly, I'll tell you nothing if you're not careful-'

'I'll make you biscuits,' Bilbo offered, enticingly. Nori paused; Bilbo's cinnamon biscuits _were_ good.

'Alright. There's a little coffee shop near his work he goes to at lunchtimes. It's called Bard's or something and he's usually there at half-twelve. He doesn't stay though, he takes it back to the office.'

'Thank you,' Bilbo breathed. 'How do you know all this?'

'I have a little brother who's good with computers and far too easily bribed by the promise of books,' Nori replied, returning to his work. Bilbo silently thanked Ori for finding this out, aware that time was running out. He had two weeks until Nori declared the bet lost, and Bilbo was damned if he was going to lose this.

:::

The next day he took an early lunch and made his way over to the part of the city Nori had directed him to and had no trouble finding Bard's coffee shop, located on the main road as it was. There were a number of sky-rises in the area; Bilbo wondered which was Thorin's.

It was quarter past twelve; he'd get himself settled in Bard's so he was ready for when Thorin arrived. The man behind the counter was a cheerful, perhaps in his forties and not bad-looking; he'd have no trouble getting _him_ into his bed. He smiled widely when Bilbo walked in. Bilbo ordered a quick shot of coffee before finding a table towards the back where he could watch the people passing the windows and entering the café. At the table on the other side of the room, a very pale, anaemic-looking man sitting hunched over the table was muttering to himself. Bilbo glanced at him, a little worried by his gentle rocking as he stared at a golden ring sitting on the table. He seemed ti be muttering something about "preciouses" and Bilbo was glad he hadn't sat on that side of the room.

The minutes ticked by and by twenty-five past it was getting busy; he stood and made to stand by the queue but not in it. He needed the timing to be right.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, nervously tapping his thigh as he wondered if perhaps Thorin wasn't coming today. But suddenly he caught a glimpse of dark hair and a set jaw - Thorin! He quickly stepped into the queue, back to Thorin who had just opened the door.

He longed to turn around and see what he looked like in his work clothes, having seen him only in jeans and a jacket previously (not that he didn't look good in them, because only a fool would deny that) but Bilbo had always had a thing for men in suits.

He heard footsteps on the wooden floor until they stopped behind him. Bilbo turned casually as if to glance at a stranger and for a moment was embarrassingly tongue-tied. Thorin was bloody _gorgeous_ \- so well-trimmed and groomed, with his neat hair and the ghost of stubble gracing his cheeks. Bilbo wondered what it would feel like on his skin. And his clothes - his navy suit was so sharply cut Bilbo could cut himself on it, and that shade of red of his tie shouldn't be allowed. It was so dark, like wine, and it contrasted beautifully with his blue eyes.

Eyes which looked down at Bilbo looking at him and went wide when they recognised him.

'Thorin?' Bilbo asked, squinting as if to make sure he was real and he _hadn't_ just planned the whole thing. 'Fancy seeing you here!'

Thorin looked at him, not saying anything but rather looking like a deer caught in headlights. Then suddenly he seemed to shake himself. 'Bilbo,' he said, giving a small smile. 'I didn't think to see you here.'

'Life's funny like that sometimes, I suppose,' Bilbo said, turning so he could move along with the queue before turning back to Thorin, who was picking at a thread on his jacket sleeve, and giving an encouraging smile. 'Will you join me? I've got a table already,' he gestured to where his things were sitting in his cosy little corner.

Thorin looked uncertain. ‘I’ve really got to get back to work-’

‘Just for ten minutes, please?’ Bilbo asked, widening his eyes in the way that always seemed to work. 'Frodo and I missed you at the park the last couple of times, and you look like you need   a break.’ Thorin gave a soft snort but before he could answer they’d reached the front of the queue and Bilbo was ordering his coffee, strong and dark.

‘You like your coffee like your partners too, then?’ Thorin asked from behind him, a hint of amusement in his voice (and oh, what a voice it was. It never failed to make Bilbo shiver) and Bilbo turned to grin at him.

‘You remembered,’ he said, surprised; Thorin just nodded and gave a small smile.

When their coffee orders were ready, the barista giving Bilbo a small wink as he handed him his mug (if it all fell through with Thorin, perhaps Bilbo could find some sort of…consolation in the arms of Bard.) They stood in the coffee shop, Thorin hunched over as if he’d rather be anywhere else and Bilbo standing perhaps a little bit closer than was strictly necessary.

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ Bilbo asked him, scrutinising Thorin closely. He looked tired.

He nodded wearily. ‘I appreciate your concern, Bilbo, really I do, but…’ he shook his head. ‘I really do have to get back to work.’

Bilbo nodded. Dammit, this wasn’t going the way he’d planned. Thorin was supposed to _agree_ to stay and Bilbo would work his charm like he never had before, but he could hardly do so if the man was dead set on leaving.

‘Are you sure you won’t stay? I could buy you a muffin-‘

‘No, thank you. I’ve really got to go.’

‘Alright.’ Bilbo nodded. ‘Will you call me?’

Thorin looked torn for a moment and then Bilbo got the biggest rejection of his life. ‘No,’ Thorin said. ‘Goodbye, Bilbo.’

And then he turned and left, leaving Bilbo standing alone in the middle of the coffee shop. Hastily he retreated back to his table, sipping at his coffee. He looked up, a little surprised when Bard brought him a plate with a couple of shortbread fingers on it with a grin and a wink, and it gave Bilbo some relief that it couldn’t be because he was unattractive that Thorin was resisting. He gave Bard his best smile as he thanked him.

Maybe Nori was right and Thorin just wasn’t interested in relationships. Perhaps that was why Nori was willing to let him try, because he knew he’d fail eventually.

But then, Thorin had seemed so…nice and normal and human, those times they’d met at the park. Yes, it had been all of twice, but he’d seemed more vulnerable than the sharp, crisp man in the (just perfectly close-fitting) suit.

If Bilbo was good at anything it was getting to people; he _would_ get to Thorin Durin, one way or another. He’d enjoy what Thorin had to offer, he’d win this bet with Nori and he’d move on. But he _would_ manage it. He thought about making those tired eyes of Thorin’s wide and dark with desire, feeling the finely chiselled body beneath that suit. Oh, Thorin certainly had a lot to offer.

He drained his mug and stood up to leave; his lunch break would end soon and he needed to get back to work. Sighing, he left the coffee shop and Bard behind.

:::

He went to Bard's again the next lunchtime, arriving early and this time placing himself within easy view of the door. At exactly half twelve Thorin walked in and ordered his coffee, but he didn't see Bilbo and the look on his face was so dark that Bilbo didn't dare to say anything (even if he did find it undeniably attractive). He wasn't surprised however when Bard gave him his number, written on the back of the napkin with his carrot cake slice on. He sent a coy smile at Bard; after all, he still needed other...projects to write about.

The next morning he was frustrated - Nori had only given him two weeks and precious time was slipping away with each day that passed.

'Bilbo, relax,' Bofur soothed as Bilbo stared moodily at his computer, tapping his fingers on the mouse. 'You've only got to sleep with him, not get him to propose - you've done it countless times with people you've just met. You'll manage it with Thorin too.'

'Not if he's ignoring me,' Bilbo said petulantly. When Nori arrived he sat up straight, looking at his friend hopefully. 'Nori, can you tell me where he works? That way I could -'

'No, Bilbo,' Nori said sharply.

'Why?' Bilbo asked, heavy disappointment in his voice.

'Because then you'd be stalking him. As it is you're just there and he can't do anything, if he wanted, but the moment you start showing up at his work he'll know something's going on.'

Bilbo groaned and put his head in his hands. Nori grinned as he heard the words "bloody stubborn" pass Bilbo's lips.

'I take it all is not going well?' he said lightly, earning himself a death stare from Bilbo. Chuckling to himself he started working and the three of them sat in silence for a while.

'I'm going back to the coffee shop at lunch,' Bilbo said after a while. 'And I swear, if I don't succeed with Thorin today I'm just going to sleep with Bard. He's already expressed his interest more than enough.'

'You're giving up on Thorin?' Nori asked, surprised.

'You wish,' Bilbo scoffed. 'Of course not. But I need something to keep me occupied while I wait, don't I?' he smirked and Bofur and Nori chuckled.

'Are you having withdrawal, Bilbo?' Bofur teased and Bilbo just rolled his eyes, grinning.

When lunchtime came around he set off for the coffee shop, setting up at the little round table closer to the window. Bard came out to take his order and brought it out to him as opposed to queuing and Bilbo accepted gratefully, sending him a sly smile. Bard looked at him appreciatively and Bilbo couldn't stop the grin that appeared on his face and wouldn't go away. The coffee shop began to fill up then, the customers growing slightly more numerous and Bilbo sat up, knowing Thorin would be here soon...

He saw Thorin pass the window and recognised his silhouette as he pushed open the door, his veins pumping deliciously with adrenaline at the thrill of the chase, of the hunt...

Thorin stepped inside, standing for a moment in the empty doorway to let his eyes adjust; Bilbo watched him as he blinked away the sun-blindness and looked around the coffee shop, those bright blue eyes landing on him.

Thorin's eyes widened in surprise as he recognised Bilbo; he glanced at the floor before turning around and heading right back outside, leaving Bilbo in the coffee shop, near stunned. He wasn't hurt by it (at least, that's what he told himself) - disappointed, yes... But Bilbo had never really been rejected before and by one he was so determined to have... It bruised his ego. He remained sitting, more determination than ever rushing through his veins as well as a fierce jolt of sharp desire - he _wanted_ Thorin Durin. Oh, he wanted him - who wouldn't? The man was gorgeous. The heady combination thrumming through his body made him breathless and a little reckless, and before he left he found himself leaning on the coffee counter, body angled provocatively towards Bard as he made certain arrangements, with which the coffee barista seemed perfectly pleased. He just needed to take the edge off - so he could really _think_ and not do anything stupid - and later, if Bilbo pretended it was Thorin kissing him, well, no one had to know.

:::

He decided to try the coffee shop one more time, so he hurried off during his break and spent the first half an hour indulging in small smiles and coy winks across the room with Bard, remembering the other man’s undeniable talent. He _was_ a good-looking man and had probably broken more than a few hearts during his time, but Bilbo was determined to break Thorin's seemingly self-imposed celibacy. Of course he paid no mind to how pleasurable that would end up being, both for himself and Thorin.

But twelve thirty came and went and there was no sign of Thorin. None at all. Bilbo wondered if Thorin had perhaps cottoned on to what he was doing and was going somewhere else for his lunch break… He packed up, waving at Bard as he left, and braved a peek inside some of the other coffee shops in the area, but there were too many to check them all and the ones he did peer into had no sign of a tall, broad, insanely beautiful man. More than a little disappointed and frustrated, Bilbo made his way back to work with a dark face and Bofur and Nori decided not to ask. Bilbo could get nasty when angry - a trait he'd inherited from his mother, they'd heard. If that was the case then Bofur and Nori very much dreaded meeting the famous Belladonna Baggins.

And it was with a sour voice that Bilbo answered his mobile, still sounding like an aggravated teenager.

'Hello?' He asked and nearly cringed at how mean it sounded. He regretted it immediately when his cousin's voice sounded from the other end of the phone.

'Bilbo?'

'Prim!' He exclaimed, nearly dropping the phone in his haste to sit up. 'Prim, what's up?'

'Are you alright, Bilbo?' Primula sounded concerned.

'Yes, I'm fine, really,' he said, wiping all former traces of anger from his voice. 'Just a bit of a long day, that's all.'

'Oh, perhaps this isn't the best time to call-'

'No, Prim. It's fine, really. What's wrong?'

'It's just... you know Frodo's shoulder? It’s been playing up a bit recently so we’re taking him to the hospital, but Drogo’s working late this evening. I just wonder if you would mind-’

‘Of course not,’ he interrupted her. ‘Of course I’ll come with you.’

He smiled softly as he heard her small exclamation of relief. 'Oh Bilbo, thank you, really! I'll pick him up from school, if you just come whenever you're ready. He was asking if you could come with us this morning, you know,' she said and Bilbo could hear the smile in her voice.

Bilbo chuckled. 'You know he only loves me because I spoil him rotten,' Bilbo chuckled at the mock-disapproving hum Primula gave. 'I'll see you at about five,' he promised. 'At the hospital?'

Prim agreed and thanked him and they spoke for a little longer, Bilbo asking how Drogo was doing, and eventually he disconnected and returned to his work, worrying his lip as he thought of little Frodo. He loved that boy as if he was his own, something Primula and Drogo liked to tease him about as they called him a sentimental old sap, but Bilbo didn't care. Of course he'd stay with Frodo overnight, if he needed him to.

Nori and Bofur felt safer asking about that than what had happened at lunch so they spoke about that for a while until Bofur’s curiosity grew too strong and he asked tentatively, 'Bilbo, what _happened_ , at lunch?'

Bilbo looked at him sharply and a scowl appeared back on his face before he made an effort to smooth it away. 'He wasn't there,' he said. 'Thorin didn't turn up. But for now I've got Frodo to worry about..'

The others didn't say anything, only looked at one another as Bilbo returned to his work, a small frown furrowing his brow.

 :::

He left work early and at five o’clock he was at the hospital and making his way up to the sixth floor where the children’s ward was located. He found Primula and Frodo on one of the ward beds, Frodo giving him the brightest smile when he saw his uncle.

Bilbo rushed over to him before he could get out of the bed, not wanting him to annoy the doctors by hurting his shoulder any further. He greeted Primula warmly and she looked grateful for his presence.

'Hey, Frodo,' he greeted his eager nephew as he pulled him into a hug, his arms easily encasing little Frodo. The lad's dark curls tickled his nose as he pressed his face to Frodo's hair, placing a soft kiss on his hairline. 'How's your shoulder doing?'

Frodo grimaced. 'It's not that bad. They gave me some pills and I can hardly feel it any more, look-'

He began rolling his shoulder as if to show Bilbo how much it didn't hurt but Bilbo put a hand to stop him.

'It _will_ hurt if you do that!' he said, smiling at Frodo's put-out expression. 'How about we go find you a book to read? I saw a whole load on the way in,' he suggested and Frodo brightened considerably. Bilbo gave a Prim a look, quickly checking that it was alright for him to get up for a bit, and she stood and talked as they walked to the communal area for the children.

'He's been checked and they're just monitoring him for a little while before we go home, but it'll be for a while yet,' she sighed. 'I hope you don't have to be at work early tomorrow.'

Bilbo gave a snort of wry amusement. Life at Pilgrim Publishing was very relaxed, something he'd been insanely grateful for the innumerable mornings the he'd stumbled in late to work after a particularly heavy night of drinking with Bofur and Nori.

There were very few children in the hospital this late in the evening and only some were in the little play area and Bilbo found it strangely comforting to hear the noise of chattering and arguing among them, even in a hospital. Frodo had scampered over to the bookshelf to choose a book and was beckoning Bilbo and his mother over; Bilbo crossed the room to join him, resigning himself to mediocre hospital selection.

Really, a true nephew of his would have brought his own book.

As Frodo deliberated a pretty red-haired nurse walked over to them to check up on Frodo, introducing herself as Tauriel, and if Bilbo smiled perhaps a little too widely, well... She returned it, however, and he felt emboldened.

'Mistress Tauriel, I don't suppose you'd fancy a coffee when your shift ends?' he grinned and she smiled back, her eyes alight with laughter.

'That's not for a while yet, sir, and I think you'll have to fight off my other suitors for that honour,' she said, gesturing at the other children in the room, of which most of the boys seemed to be gradually following her around the room. With that she smiled a dimpled smile and walked off to attend to another patient. Bilbo watched her go before looking back at Primula, who gave a long-suffering sigh and was looking at him in fond exasperation.

'You're despicable,' she said with no real malice. Bilbo shrugged and grinned.

'She is pretty though.'

'Is that really all you think about?' Prim seemed a little disappointed and Bilbo quickly denied it.

'No! Not long ago I went out with someone who really had very little in way of looks-'

'Bofur and Nori made a _bet_ with you, didn't they?' she raised an eyebrow and Bilbo nodded sheepishly. 'I know all about you and your crazy betting games,' she laughed at the expression on his face. 'I just hope you're not teaching Frodo such bad habits-'

A small voice interrupted from behind them, making them both look down and Frodo whip around in surprise as the little voice asked, 'Frodo?'

* * *

Thorin wasn't expecting Dís' panicked call at midday and it was with no small amount of trepidation that he picked up his phone.

'Thorin?' Dís' voice from the other end of the phone was full of alarm and he felt his heart skip a beat.

'Dís? What's wrong?'

'Thorin, it's Kíli. The school have rung to say he's got new bruises and he's in pain, so I'm going to pick him up and take him to the hospital right now. Will you be able to get off work and meet us there?'

Thorin's heart had stopped at the words 'it's Kíli', fearing the worst, but he forced himself to breathe. 'Of course,' he agreed, 'I'll ring you when I get there.'

And with that he stopped what he was doing and fairly ran out of the office, hurrying past Bard's and not stopping to wonder if Bilbo was in there. It had been a shock, seeing him in there yesterday, especially as while Thorin's mind was firmly against allowing himself to get to know Bilbo better, his body seemed to disagree and his stomach seemed to coil tight as a spring whenever he thought about him. Which was really not something he needed, and it was why he'd left the coffee shop after seeing Bilbo in there, for fear of doing something he'd regret later. Such as kissing that perfect smile right off his face and tasting those lips-

He sighed as he made his way to the hospital. He hadn't slept well, tantalising images of could-have-beens taunting him and all of them with bronze curls and leaf-green eyes. He could almost deny it to himself, though, so long as he never spoke about it; so he dodged Dís' questions - more like interrogations - and thankfully the boys didn't notice what was keeping their uncle preoccupied and he hoped that eventually he could go back to normal life.

When he arrived at the hospital Kíli wasn't looking too bad, a little pale and certainly put-out at being in hospital and not in school, but Thorin was reassured that he wasn't lying weakly in a hospital bed. He seemed happy to see Thorin, who stayed with him while Dís went to pick up Fíli after his school day, but it was nothing to being reunited with his brother. It made Thorin remember Frerin, just for a minute and he had to swallow thickly for a moment to make sure he kept the sorrow at bay. He couldn't think of Frerin now, not now he again had to be strong.

The four spent the afternoon not doing much until Kíli got bored of following doctor's orders and he and Fíli relocated to the little play room. It was quiet now, most of the children having been seen and gone home already, only a few still happily chattering as their parents looked on. He saw Nurse Tauriel who smiled at them warmly and he returned it as best he could. He still felt sick with worry over Kíli but it lessened the fear somewhat to see both nephews still happy.

They sat on the hard hospital chairs as Fíli and Kíli busied themselves with the toy cars and train sets, immediately engrossed in what they were doing. Thorin closed his eyes, his mind reeling with thoughts he had no idea how to explain or put into words or even identify, not least among them the low, thrumming sense of disappointment that accompanied missed opportunities. Irritably Thorin shook himself - how many times did he need to reassure himself that _this_ was where he was needed; he couldn't leave Dís alone in this crisis, not even for someone like Bilbo.

'Thorin, who's Kíli talking to? He looks like he knows him,' Dís' voice cut into his thoughts and he gratefully opened his eyes, anything to take his mind off the paths it had taken to wandering lately, and looked to where Dís was nodding.

And felt his whole body tense.

Kíli was talking and laughing with the one man he'd hoped to avoid from now - _Bilbo_.

_What was he doing here?_

He caught sight of the little curly haired boy - Frodo, was he called? - and Thorin could see the dressing on his shoulder, so he assumed that was _why_ he was here. But his stomach sank - whywas Bilbo here _now?_ All his efforts at ridding himself of all thoughts of the man were instantly for naught as the sight of his bronzed curls and the dimpled cheeks as he smiled at Kíli brought everything rushing back.

Thorin didn't answer Dís immediately and shifted uneasily at her glance, but also partly in jumpiness. He knew Bilbo would inevitably look for him when Kíli stopped talking to him and he wasn't ready to talk to him - wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to talk to him - so he stood up quickly.

'It's fine, Dís. We're in a hospital. He's...probably a doctor or something.'

'Thorin-'

'I need to go to the bathroom,' he said over her. 'I'll be back in a moment.'

And with that he strode out of the play area, not looking back. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as he slumped against the wall, feeling his heart beat race. He snorted. How could Bilbo affect him so even though they barely knew each other? He'd never been so affected by another person, or at least not since his father and brother died, and he hated it. He needed to be strong and immovable, a constant in his sister's and nephews' lives, not flighty and upping off with the first pretty face he decided he liked. This... All this _butterflies_ and thinking about _him_ \- this was not who he was, who he had to be.

And yet... A small voice in some tiny, deep place inside of him protested. _Why not?_ it countered. _Why couldn't he let himself have this one thing?_

Because of Kíli, he told himself again. Kíli Kíli Kíli. He had to be here for Kíli and Fíli and Dís.

Heaving a large sigh he pushed himself up off the wall and headed for the coffee machine, making himself a cup of the strong, hot drink and one for Dís too. He inhaled the steam of the cheap hospital blend and felt it calm his nerves at least a little and he was grateful for it as he forced himself back to the play area. He determined to treat Bilbo as he had before, but make it clear that acquaintances was all they were and would ever be.

He stopped in the doorway, watching as Bilbo sat on the floor with Thorin's nephews and his own, and Dís was talking to a dark haired lady who looked to be Frodo's mother. Bilbo was playing with the cars with them and appeared to be making up a story for them; Thorin's heart swelled inexplicably at the sight before he furiously stopped it.

He stepped into the play area and felt his heart lurch when Bilbo noticed him and looked up, still sitting on the floor. His hair was tousled and he grinned at Thorin, near making his heart stop with the sweetness of it. Thorin cursed under his breath as Bilbo put down his car and got to his feet, his eyes never leaving Thorin.

'Thorin, you never told me about Bilbo,' Dís said suddenly, sounding hurt, and Thorin quickly turned to face her so he didn't have to face Bilbo.

'I...' He had nothing to say in his defence.

'It's good to see you again, Thorin,' Bilbo said and he sounded utterly sincere, not a trace of his prior _coyness._

'You too,' he said gruffly, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet and he handed Dís her coffee just so that he was doing something with his hands.

'This is my cousin Primula,' Bilbo said, 'Frodo's mother. Prim, this is the man I was telling you about...'

Prim smiled as Thorin took her hand, still acting slightly on instinct as his mind still reeled. There was an awkward silence for a minute during which Dís glared at Thorin who looked into his coffee cup as Fíli and Kíli continued to play with Frodo.

'Thorin, could I talk to you for a moment?' Bilbo asked suddenly and Thorin only just refrained from cringing. He wanted to refuse, but knew he couldn't, not if Dís was there. So he nodded and smiled tightly and followed Bilbo out of the play area.

The two of them stood in the slightly darkened corridor in another awkward silence.

'Thorin, I...' Bilbo paused, as if struggling for words and he frowned. 'I really like you, Thorin,' he admitted and Thorin saw him glance at the floor shyly. Thorin could feel a blush rise in his cheeks at the admission. 'You never said why you suddenly stopped coming to the park but I assume it was Kíli?' he asked softly and Thorin nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Bilbo nodded and again there was a pregnant pause, heavy with words as yet unspoken. Thorin couldn't stop himself admiring the curve of Bilbo's neck as he looked at the floor or the slight upturn of his nose, or the way his curls fell over his ears like that...

'And...would it be safe to assume that it's because of Kíli that you don't want to talk to me?' Bilbo asked, a hint of his cheekiness back in his voice as he glanced up at Thorin, those eyes sharp with intelligence.

'I...' Thorin started but no sound came out so he cleared his throat, silently cursing his stupid nerves. This was why he shut himself off from things like this... 'I _didn't_ want to talk to you because of Kíli. Now...'

Bilbo looked at him and the look of hopefulness on his face made Thorin's heart do funny things in his chest. '...You do?' he asked quietly and Thorin nodded, hands fiddling with his pocket.

Bilbo's smile was brighter than the sun in summer and it left Thorin dumbstruck. He started when he felt small hands enclose one of his own and Bilbo looked down at where his hands cradled Thorin's. 'I know you have doubts about everything but Thorin, I swear...' Bilbo stepped in slightly closer, leaning up to Thorin's ear. 'We could make it work, if you wanted it to.'

Later, Thorin might curse his sudden recklessness, the way he so quickly threw caution to the wind, but the next thing he knew his arms had slipped around Bilbo's waist and he'd leaned down to kiss him, his rough, chapped lips finding Bilbo's warm sweet ones in a kiss that was sweet and gentle yet grew steadily more desperate until Thorin gasped when he felt Bilbo's mouth running softly over his ear.

Bilbo pulled away then, a good-natured smirk on his face and Thorin gently ran his fingers through Bilbo's curls, soft as silk under his calloused fingers.

'I'd like that,' he said eventually into the quiet corridor, his voice low. 'I'd like that very much.'

Bilbo smiled and leaned in to kiss him again and Thorin couldn't keep the smile off his face. When they re-joined Dís and Primula and the boys Thorin could still feel his skin tingling where Bilbo had touched him and his lips quirked up even when Dís sent him knowing glances. He just about managed to resist pressing a finger to his lips like a love-sick tween after his first kiss.

He ignored the part of him that warned him against this - he'd denied himself so much over the years, and just because of Bilbo it didn't mean he wouldn't be able to be there for his family; if this was any indicator, he thought as Bilbo twined his fingers through Thorin's, it looked like it would be better for them all with Bilbo around.

* * *

'Nori. You'll never guess who I just met at the hospital.' Bilbo couldn't keep the note of glee from his voice and rushed on before Nori could give an answer. 'Thorin! That's why he wasn't around at lunch today. 

'You didn't...'

'Yes!' Bilbo laughed, giddy excitement bubbling through him. 'And it was so unexpected but so _easy -'_ Bilbo could hardly keep his voice level he was so pleased at this turn of events. 'And it really took nothing - he obviously wanted it all along or he'd have taken more persuading - and then - get _this,_ Nori! - _he_ kissed _me!'_

'He... _Thorin_ made the first move?' Bilbo swelled with pride at the disbelief he heard in his friend's voice.

'After I moved close and whispered in his ear, yes,' he agreed. 'But it'll be a breeze to get him into bed and _then,_ Mister Rison, I'll have won the bet and I'll thank you for the drinks.'

'Don't count your pints before they're pulled,' Nori warned. 'Thorin can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be.'

'He wants _me,'_ Bilbo said airily. 'I'll get what I want and have a good time doing so, win my bet and get my free drinks. You'll see. Speaking of pulling, have you _told_ Bofur you fancy the pants off him yet?'

'Wha- Bilbo!' Nori spluttered and Bilbo laughed.

'You thought I wouldn't notice? Oh, Nori, come on... Relationships are my _job_...'


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific warnings for this chapter, folks. Only that my attempts at thinking up chat-up lines and flirting are _incredibly_ poor and I can't for the life of me write smut. Sorry, but I'm literally like the most immature person ever. So, uhm, it's referenced but really not explicit. Please don't laugh. :P
> 
> Also I apologise in advance for the angst that's coming. Haha. Yeah... *runs away and hides* I hope you like it!

PART 2

_"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”_

_― Dr. Seuss_

 

It was late when they were finally allowed home, Kíli having been deemed fit enough to be discharged. Thorin and Dís carried a child each inside and helped them get ready for bed before tucking them in and pressing a soft kiss to their foreheads. They were fast asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

Thorin made tea for himself and Dís and her face as he handed her the mug said that he wasn't going to escape questioning that easily. He'd never been able to dissuade her from anything once she'd set her mind to it - a trait she was keen to point out in himself whenever he complained about it.

'Why did you not tell me about Bilbo?' she asked in the teasing way of little sisters. No matter how old they got, or how much hardship they endured, Dís never seemed to change.

'Because there was no need,' Thorin replied, trying to keep his voice neutral. 'He was just someone I met and who the boys just happened to take a shine to his nephew.'

Dís made a pfft-ing noise. 'Just someone you met,' she scoffed. 'Thorin, you were holding his hand. You haven't done that voluntarily to anyone outside of family in years, and yet you did for this Bilbo. So, brother mine, tell me everything,' she demanded, sitting at the kitchen table and settling down, staring at him with those Durin blue eyes.

For a moment he briefly considered pleading tiredness and escaping to bed, but Dís' gaze said that he wasn't going anywhere until she'd heard everything. So he collapsed into another seat and, sighing, told her about how he'd met Bilbo. Her face split into a grin as she listened and - much to his surprise - when he'd finished she was looking at him with softness in her eyes and she reached out to hold his hand.

'You've put family first for so very long,' she said quietly, tracing the lines on his palm and staring down at it. 'Thorin, I'm so happy for you. That you've found someone.'

Thorin couldn't help the embarrassment that crept slowly up his neck. 'Yes, well,' he said quickly, closing his hand around Dís' before letting go and wrapping both hands around his mug, as if it could anchor him here and now. 'It's still early days yet. I don't know what'll happen. You never know, it could all fall apart by next week... But now I think I'll go to bed,' he said suddenly, uncomfortable under Dís' knowing stare. 'It's been a long day.'

She said nothing as he put his cup in the sink and pressed a goodnight kiss to her forehead, but as he reached the door she called out, 'He's cute, Thorin. He's a keeper.' Thorin ducked his head and hastily made his way to his own room, getting ready for bed quickly before nearly falling into bed. He heard Dís do the same and then everything was silent, apart from Fíli's quiet mutterings as he talked in his sleep.

If Thorin was completely honest, he was nearly crippled with fear at the course his life had taken recently. First Bilbo, then Kíli, now Bilbo again... Bilbo made him happy. He couldn't explain why, only that he felt more complete than he had when he woke up that morning and Bilbo had been a distant dream.

But for all that, his heart froze in dread at the thought that Bilbo might leave him. It was frightening, _needing_ someone like he did Bilbo; _craving_ him, his touch, his kisses -

And he couldn't shake the thought that it couldn't last, and what if it was his fault, and what-if after what-if filling his brain until he rolled over and clapped the pillow over his head to try and drown the doubts out.

With his head under the pillow he nearly missed his phone's muffled vibrating from his chair where he'd left it as he got changed, only noticing it when he opened his eyes and saw the eerie blue shadow he cast in the pale light. Getting up, he reached for the phone and checked the new message, warmth curling through him as he read the words on the screen.

Bilbo. He smiled, imagining the words in Bilbo's soft voice, the soft whisper of his breath against his ear and in his hair before Thorin claimed those lips and put them to better use. He fell asleep still clutching the phone, Bilbo's goodnight message in illuminated letters shining on the walls until the phone locked and Thorin was lost to the world for the time being.

* * *

Bilbo was woken by the sound of toast popping and eggs frying. He blearily rubbed his eyes and peered around the room, trying to work out where he was, before remembering that he was in Nori's front room and the reason for his pounding headache were strewn across the room - the remnants of their celebratory drinks on Bilbo's success (so far) with Thorin. He hated how the only things left after a good party were mess and a killer headache.

Nori poked his head around the corner and grinned when he saw Bilbo stirring.

'Time to get up, Master Ring-Winner,' he said, grinning. 'You'll need some breakfast in you if you want to get rid of that hangover and stand a chance of getting anywhere with You-Know-Who. If you're not careful Bofur will eat it all.'

Bilbo scrambled up off the sofa, blankets falling off him as he stumbled on beer bottles to get to the kitchen and groaned as sunlight streamed through the window.

'We don't have work today, do we?' he asked suddenly, stomach sinking as he thought of dragging himself and his friends in to work while his head felt like it was made of egg-shells. Nori chuckled.

'No. It's Saturday, Bilbo. You really did drink a lot.' His grin as he flipped the eggs was knowing.

'I was celebrating,' Bilbo said stubbornly, ignoring Nori's pointed glance. 'Where's Bofur?'

'In the shower. He'll be out soon.'

Bilbo nodded and sat heavily down at the kitchen table. 'Coffee?' he asked desperately and Nori set a cup in front of him, just how Bilbo liked it in the mornings - black, incredibly strong and with multiple teaspoons of sugar. The strength and sweetness of it as he sipped were divine and he forced himself to savour it.

When Bofur appeared Nori served the food and they tucked in to their breakfast. Bilbo could feel himself returning to normal even as he ate, the weariness leaving him until he was laughing as uproariously as ever he did when the three of them were together.

After a momentary lapse in the conversation Nori looked thoughtful and Bilbo prodded at him to see what was wrong.

'I was just thinking about our bet,' Nori said.

'Well, I've pretty much won it,' Bilbo said confidently. 'It won't take much to get him to tumble, not if he's as desperate as he seems.'

'But you've only got a week left,' Bofur said, not looking up from his toast. 'Can you get him into bed in a week?'

'I should think so,' Bilbo said indignantly. 'It never takes me more than a couple of drinks before I can get people under the sheets, so I doubt it'll take a _week_ to get Thorin.'

'When my cousins and I were smaller, we used to call him the Rock-heart because he never seemed upset, or angry or even happy. He hasn't been in a relationship since the accident and he's always put his family first,' Nori said. 'I don't know that a week will be long enough to convince Thorin Rock-heart to lose all honour and just sleep with you already.'

'What are you saying?' Bilbo demanded. 'You think I'll lose?'

I'm generous,' Nori said, raising his hands defensively. 'Partly out of disbelief you've even made it this far with him, you can have more time.'

Bilbo made to sit back in contentment but Nori looked at him closely. 'For each base you get to on The Scale, you get an extra day. He kisses you, initiates touching...you get an extra day. Once you've got to nine extra days, you have to have slept with Thorin or I win, and you're buying drinks,' Nori said and Bilbo could see the gleam in his eye as he hoped for that outcome.

If there was one thing Nori hated worse than sharing alcohol it was _paying_ for it.

He looked back down at his eggs. He could do this. He was Bilbo Baggins, charmer extraordinaire and serial Ring-Winner. Once he worked out the cracks in Thorin's defences, those walls would come crumbling down and Bilbo tasted anticipation when he thought about the tumble it would inevitably lead to. A fine thing indeed, he was sure. So he smiled at Nori and tucked back into his breakfast, headache dissipating in the wake of his newfound confidence.

:::

 _Can I meet you today?_ He paused in his typing, tongue peeping out of the corner of his mouth. What could he say without sounding desperate? Somehow "I've been thinking about you all night" just seemed more stalkerish than romantic. He sighed; usually words fell glibly from his tongue, rolling off in flirtatious golden waves that were enough to win everyone over, but Thorin was different. Even as he'd kissed Bilbo yesterday, the fierce passion he'd got only a taste of had been tempered with a bitter hesitance. Almost the tang of fear. And Bilbo couldn't afford to push him away all because of a few poorly chosen words; each one had to be considered and weighed until Bilbo was satisfied they'd convey what he wanted without scaring Thorin off. Not when he'd got so far.

_You know how I like my coffee, but I remain sadly ignorant about that on your part - which needs to be rectified! There's only so much hospital coffee a man can take, you know._

Frustration flooded through him and he gave up, typing out a quick _I hope you can, and that last night wasn't all just a very pleasant dream._

He was still at Nori's but he had a drawer-full of clothes here, as did Bofur; in fact they all had a stash of clothes stored at the others' houses for occasions such as this and they fell asleep after a long evening celebrating, too tired to even think about getting up let alone home. So he used Nori's shower and got dressed in the jeans and shirt he had there and by the time he was done a reply had arrived from Thorin.

 _Only pleasant?,_ He asked and Bilbo didn't miss the teasing tone and smiled as he imagined Thorin typing out this reply, brows furrowing in concentration before he would lean over and kiss them smooth again, hands catching in the soft brush of his hair-

He returned his attention to the message. _I have to work this morning but I can finish by midday. You could meet me here at work or we could go to Bard's?_

Bilbo had a hard time stifling the laughter at the last question, so much so that Nori and Bofur looked at him in concern, until he explained. 'I _slept_ with Bard,' he said, exasperated they forgot the promise he'd made that day. The man had been good enough to take his mind off Thorin, just for a little while, he supposed. 'So I'm hardly going to go to his cafe with the man I'm _trying_ to hook up with.'

 _I'll meet you at work,_ he said. _I know a good place for coffee, but you'll have to wait and see! Worth the wait, I promise._

Thorin told him the address of his work and Bilbo replied with a kiss, a couple of x's on his screen. Thorin didn't reply to that but he was working, so Bilbo didn't worry too much. Instead he focused on straightening his clothes, getting ready to go home to get ready.

'Where's the coffee place you were speaking about?' Nori asked him as the three made their way to the door to say goodbye to Bilbo. 'You've never really been in that part of town.'

'I haven't,' Bilbo agreed. 'But my place is called "First Base" and I hear they're generous with second helpings,' he said, smirking at Nori pointedly until the ginger man started laughing.

'Well,' he said, clapping Bilbo on the back as he took a moment to blink away the last vestiges of hangover that threatened to make a reappearance at the sudden assault of the sun on his eyes. 'Good luck, and tell us everything when you get back!'

Bilbo only smiled and walked off, making his way home; his stomach curled in sweet anticipation.

* * *

Thorin's stomach was twisting nervously as lunchtime approached and the time that he was due to meet Bilbo neared. Over on the desk next to him Dwalin let out a sigh as Thorin checked his watch for perhaps the hundredth time.

'You looking forward to summat, Thorin?' he asked, glancing up briefly at his friend with a knowing smile just curving his lips, although it was almost hidden by his beard. 'It's like you've swallowed a sack of beans, you're so jumpy.'

Thorin sat straighter in his chair. 'It's just a long day, is all,' he said defensively. 'And everything is particularly tedious - I swear they come up with paperwork for the most ridiculous things-'

'Thorin.' Dwalin looked at his friend pointedly and Thorin dropped his pen on the desk, ignoring the clatter.

'If you're just going to sit there and stare at me, you have got your own _proper_ desk, you know,' he said irritably, ignoring the smirk on Dwalin's face.

'Aye,' the other man agreed. 'That I do. But why would I go before my old friend has dished the dirt on what's got him in such a tizzy?' Dwalin grinned and this time it was Thorin's turn to sigh.

'I'm meeting someone for lunch,' he blurted out, rubbing at his temples and not looking at Dwalin.

Dwalin let out a whistle. 'As in... A business lunch, or a _lunch_ lunch?'

'A _lunch_ lunch.'

'There's no need to sound so miserable,' Dwalin said, only just smothering a laugh of his own at Thorin's glum tone. His friend was inclined towards the melancholy when he was nervous. He let out a low whistle then. 'This must be a very special person indeed, to get _you_ to agree to go to lunch!'

Thorin looked down at his hands and Dwalin could have sworn a ghost of a smile quirked his lips up. 'Yes,' Thorin said softly. 'He is.'

Dwalin leaned back in his chair. 'Well then. Are you going to tell me about them?' He knew he was being mean to Thorin but it was so rare that the unflappable, ever seemingly-calm and very reserved Thorin Durin could lose his composure so completely, and Dwalin would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

Thorin scowled. 'No. Haven't you got work to do?'

'Nope. Not until you tell me... And it doesn't look like you'll get much done if you keep checking your watch every five seconds!' Dwalin swivelled in his chair as Thorin sighed.

'First Dís, and then you,' he muttered. 'If I tell you, will you leave me alone?'

'I want to meet them,' Dwalin said quickly, sitting up immediately.

'Wha- no! Dwalin, you'll frighten him off.' Dwalin waved an arm in seeming agreement even though he knew he'd follow Thorin down to at least get a look at the one who'd somehow managed to win Thorin over.

Thorin told him about Bilbo, fastidiously ignoring the smirks and raised eyebrows in his direction.

'Is he blonde?' Dwalin asked, interrupting Thorin at one point. 'He's rather petite? Shorter than you? And if I know you at all he's got curves, hasn't he?' Dwalin hooted with laughter when Thorin's blush gave the affirmative. 'Thorin, I do believe he's exactly your type.'

'My type? I don't have a _type-'_ he exclaimed hotly but Dwalin didn't stop chuckling, even as he left the office to go to his own desk just outside; Thorin could hear the muffled laughter through the window and he grit his teeth in annoyance, even though he knew it was just Dwalin being Dwalin. He glanced at his watch and took a shuddering breath when he saw that Bilbo would be downstairs waiting for him in just under twenty minutes.

 :::

If Thorin went down just a little early, it was no one's business but his own. Only common courtesy, really, so that Bilbo wouldn't be kept waiting.

As he skulked near the lifts looking out over the foyer so that he could see everyone coming and going, he mentally berated himself for his behaviour. For the nerves - he was forty, for goodness' sake, and anyone would have thought he was a tween in love for the first time at the rate he was going. But he couldn't suppress the little sparks of excitement that constantly shot through him, making him jumpy. He _wanted_ to see Bilbo, and he hadn't felt like that in a very long time.

He recognised Bilbo's curls before his face, that head of burnished bronze tumbling curls shining in the sun that streamed in through the windows. When Bilbo looked as if to be heading to the front desk Thorin hastily hurried forward to meet him, partly because he knew that Glóin on reception would never shut up about who the pretty lad come to see him was. So Thorin quickly hurried over to him, trying not to look too pleased that Bilbo had come and at the same time stifling the jolts that shocked through him when he saw Bilbo's greeting smile. Incredibly bright and enough to make Thorin's heart stutter - if he'd gone for that sort of thing. Which he didn't.

As he greeted Bilbo he paused for a second, unsure of really where they stood and how he should proceed but Bilbo happily tucked his arm through Thorin's and they walked out of the building. Thorin resolutely ignored the way his stomach was currently tied up in knots - and that just from touching Bilbo's arm!

'Be honest,' Bilbo said from beside him, looking up at him. Dwalin was right, he really was shorter than Thorin, the tops of his curls just reaching Thorin's chin. 'You thought I wouldn't come.' He was grinning, a glint of mirth in those deep green eyes.

Thorin shrugged lightly, glancing around them to try and ignore the way Bilbo's eyes seemed to be branding him for good. 'I had considered the possibility,' he agreed.

'I'm a Baggins,' Bilbo said and Thorin was relieved that he didn't sound hurt or angry. 'We keep our word, once we've given it.' His grip tightened just a fraction on Thorin's arm and he leaned up slightly, his voice lowering enough that Thorin had to dip his head slightly. 'And I wouldn't give up an opportunity to see you in your very well-tailored suit for anything,' he said, and if that unbroken gaze and low voice didn't just send excitement coursing through him.

Bilbo grinned as Thorin swallowed and then he looked away and up at their surroundings.

'I... I assumed we'd just go to Bard's,' Thorin said, 'seeing as it's pretty good and we've both been there. But you know of somewhere else?'

‘Yes,’ Bilbo said hastily. ‘It’s this way…’ A blush had crept into Bilbo's cheeks and Thorin desperately wanted to know what had put it there; what it was that had got Bilbo flustered enough to turn his cheeks pink but he didn't ask, instead letting Bilbo gently tug him along quickly past the coffee shop, more bemused than anything. Bilbo slowed down once they were well past Bard's and the slight blush was adorable, dusting Bilbo with dusky pink on his cheeks.

Bilbo led him to a little park nearby, a quaint little river with ducks quacking running through it as well as well-trimmed tall hedges edging the maze-like paths and colourful, intricately designed flower displays in fancy stone beds placed at intervals along the pebble-lined track.

Bilbo appeared suddenly shy and kept his gaze on the ground, glancing up at Thorin occasionally before quickly looking back down at the floor. It was really quite adorable and Thorin took his hand, encasing it in both of his own and quirking a little smile at him when Bilbo looked up in surprise.

The little dimpled smile he gave in return made Thorin's mind go empty of all coherent thought except the one desire to _kiss him._ Alarmed at how strongly he wanted to, he hesitated only a second before leaning in and quickly claiming those soft full lips in a gentle kiss. Bilbo returned it eagerly, leaning in closer and standing on his toes. Thorin acted on instinct and drew an arm around Bilbo's waist, holding him even closer as Bilbo wrapped an arm around his neck. His warmth was burning him even through their clothes and it when they drew apart for breath Thorin was tingling all over.

Bilbo's lips were red and his cheeks flushed and Thorin was breathing heavily; he couldn't formulate any response other than a smile before leaning in again, slower this time, and kissing Bilbo gently. His hand still rested on the small of Bilbo's back and the smaller man shifted against him, nudging his hand to one warm, rounded hip; it was a simple thing to move his thumb so the pad brushed the skin beneath just so. The touch made Bilbo jump and they pulled apart.

'If we're not careful we'll get done for public indecency,' he laughed a little breathlessly and Thorin could only grin in reply, his thoughts and breath stolen quite completely by this man in front of him with kiss-reddened lips and curls mussed from their embrace.

Thorin quickly tried to gather his wits and took Bilbo's arm, tucking it into his. 'So, where's your coffee shop then?'

Bilbo gave a sheepish grin. 'I’m not really sure… around somewhere. And it's not really coffee. It's ice cream.'

Thorin chuckled. 'I suppose I should have known...'

Bilbo's ice cream place proved difficult to find and they spent no small amount of time trying to find it, but when they did it was as good as he'd promised, with a little terrace on banks of the gentle little river where they sat, Thorin admiring the way the water reflected on Bilbo's skin. After, they strolled back through the park and eventually they said goodbye, more than a few kisses being exchanged.

After Bilbo left Thorin couldn't keep the little smile from appearing on his face, his lips still feeling warm with the echo of Bilbo's, soft and warm and pliant under his. He was sure he was bright red as he walked back to work, unable to stop thinking about the feelings Bilbo had sparked and that were making his body thrum.

And then an alarmingly large wave of guilt washed over him and he stopped sharply in the middle of the pavement. How could he have such a nice time with his new little _friend_ when things at home were as they were-

Angrily he shook his head. He had to _stop_ thinking like this; his...whatever he had with Bilbo, there was no way it was going to get between him and his family. He wouldn't let it. Dís and the boys were his life, all the family he had left and this passing fancy was nothing compared to that. He was struck by how much he hoped this _wasn't_ merely a passing fancy, the sudden tightening of his gut that seemed to protest against the thought.

 :::

The boys were upstairs and Dís preparing dinner in the kitchen when he got home. Dís took one look at his face when he walked in and immediately grinned.

'Well,' she said as he sat down, 'how is he?'

'Who?' Thorin replied, feigning ignorance - but not very well. He cracked under Dís' sharp gaze and let the grin spread across his face again. 'Bilbo? He's...well.'

Dis nodded. 'Just well?'

'Well. He's good...very good.'

'At _kissing_?' Dís asked pointedly and Thorin ducked his head, his smile widening as he remembered the kisses and the fireworks they had set off in his belly. Dís just chuckled and made to return to cooking as Thorin started to go upstairs to change, but suddenly she stopped.

'I've just remembered something I want to show you,' she said and pushed Thorin back into his seat. 'Wait here.' Thorin did so and not two minutes later Dís was back, a magazine in her hand, which she then proceeded to lay out on the table in front of Thorin. 'One of the girls at the coffee morning today showed me this,' she muttered as she flicked through the pages until she came to the right one. She stood back and gestured that Thorin should read it.

Bemused, Thorin did so.

'"Taking Them There And Back Again"?' he asked, looking at his sister in confusion, but she only gestured that he should read on, so he frowned and looked back down at the page, scanning the lines of text.

What he read made his gut churn in disbelief and outrage, and his sister's eyes when he looked at her seemed to mirror his.

'There are people who find this amusing?' he asked quietly. 'People who think it's funny to play people like this?'

Dís raised her eyebrows and shrugged. 'I can hardly believe it. But it's no wonder the author uses a pen-name when they do things like that.'

 _Ring-Winner._ The "name", crude in its innuendo, left a bad taste in his mouth and he shut the magazine sharply so he didn't have to see any more about this Ring-Winner's sexual prowess. His heart went out to those on the receiving end of this person's complete and utter lack of respect or care and he hoped they hadn't been affected too badly. This led him to thinking of Bilbo and he smiled as he got changed, before going in to see his nephews, happily playing with their Lego. He hoped he'd see Bilbo again tomorrow; he hadn't had such a pleasant lunch break in a long while.

* * *

'Well, Nori, that's one day you've to add to my time limit,' Bilbo said smugly down the phone. 'I got him to kiss me.'

'Well now, there's a turn-up for the books,' Nori said drily and Bilbo grinned, imagining Nori's habitual eye-roll. 'Fine, one extra day. But you've still only got a week, Bilbo.'

'I know. But I'll manage it, considering how he reacted to the kiss. He looked a bit shell-shocked afterwards-' he paused. 'Nori, how _long_ has it been since Thorin was in a relationship, let alone slept with anyone?'

'So long that everyone's forgotten,' Nori laughed. 'I honestly don't remember, and we're only distant cousins so I doubt I even knew at the time.'

Bilbo huffed. 'Not that I'm complaining. It's making my life a lot easier, if I'm honest.'

'You don't know Thorin at all if you think he's going to fall into bed with you any quicker just because he hasn't had any in years!' Nori scoffed from the other end of the line. 'For all we know it could have shrunk right off by now-'

'Yes, thank you, Nori,' Bilbo bit out, cutting off his friend angrily. 'If you're not going to be nice don't talk to me at all,' he said petulantly. He hated it when his...seductive abilities were questioned. Especially not when _he_ was the one so desperately wanting the other - just the thought of Thorin's broad shoulders was enough to make him lose focus and imagining how they'd feel behind his knees, his fingernails raking deep into his skin - it made him dizzy just to think of it.

'You rang me,' Nori pointed out, 'so if you don't want to talk to me, I'll just ring Bofur.'

'I'm sorry,' Bilbo said, contrite. 'I'm just...'

'...Becoming increasingly sexually frustrated?' Nori supplied helpfully and Bilbo exhaled heavily, a cross between a sigh and a laugh.

'Yes,' he admitted. 'Bard was good but he just didn't cut it. Speaking of, are you and Bofur together yet?'

Nori's silence spoke volumes. Bilbo sighed and spent the next half an hour trying to convince his friend that Bofur would probably jump him the first chance he got if he was given the slightest indication it would be welcome, all of which Nori staunchly denied. In all the time he'd been friends with Nori, Bilbo had never thought he'd end up his agony aunt.

:::

The next day Bilbo met Thorin for lunch again; his lunch break ended with a victorious phone call to Nori that Thorin had kissed him before they'd even got out of the building.

The next day, Bilbo's smug smirk was the product of wandering hands before their owner got embarrassed and blushed at his forwardness, before Bilbo kissed his insecurities away.

The day after that they'd found themselves in a secluded area in the park, surrounded by trees and tall vegetation with ducks sailing past on the river, and Bilbo couldn't contain the little sigh of contentment when his back came into contact with a tree and Thorin's lips were still warm and hot on his own, their bodies pressed close.

The day after that was a Friday, and Bilbo formulated a new plan of attack: he met Thorin _after_ work.

 :::

Dusk was fast approaching as he met Thorin outside his work and was greeted by a warm kiss which he leaned into, pleased when Thorin didn't draw away. Things were looking hopeful; he smiled to himself as he moved his hands to grip Thorin's shoulders. Eventually they broke apart and Bilbo smiled.

'You're pleased to see me,' he said coyly and Thorin returned the smile.

'Well, I didn't get you at lunch. It's been a long day without you,' he said, hiding his face in Bilbo's curls. His words made Bilbo smirk; Nori would surely be mistaken, if this was how hooked Thorin was after only a week.

'Mm,' Bilbo hummed in agreement, turning his head to reveal his neck for Thorin. 'I missed you. But...' He drew back and looked at Thorin from under his eyelashes in the look that had won him every conquest to date. 'Let's have tea at my house,' he said. Thorin froze beneath his hands on his shoulders and Bilbo continued in a rush. 'I've got peppermint, if it's more your thing, or chamomile. Or even chai, if you like it hot...' He took a step away from Thorin, looking up at Thorin. The dark haired man was staring at him, his internal struggle evident as if he were warring with himself, and his hold on Bilbo's hips suddenly tightened before he pressed a kiss to Bilbo's head.

'I'm more of a breakfast blend myself,' he said and Bilbo gave him the widest grin.

'I do believe I can cater for that,' Bilbo said and captured Thorin's lips in a fierce kiss before leading him in the direction of his flat, keeping a hold on his hands. The journey home had never been as enjoyable as it was that time, Thorin's solid warmth beside him not only comforting but certainly reminding him of what he wanted to get out of it...

Eventually they arrived home and Bilbo ushered Thorin inside, once again looking more than a little concerned. Bilbo took his coat for him and went to the little kitchen, Thorin following. He'd let his sister know he was with Bilbo and her reply had made him blush crimson which Bilbo found far too adorable for someone of Thorin's age.

As the kettle boiled Bilbo leant into Thorin, standing on his toes to try and close the gap between them, which thankfully Thorin did so when he leant down and touched his lips to Bilbo's. Bilbo immediately deepened the kiss and pressed closer to Thorin, his body pressed flush against his, and his tongue requested entrance to Thorin's mouth, making the older man groan and Bilbo gently moved backwards until he was back against the counter, pressed comfortably tightly between it and Thorin. He ran his hands through Thorin's hair and nuzzled at his neck until Thorin said something hoarsely.

'Kettle!' he said huskily, freezing in place. The kettle had indeed finished boiling but he'd decided he quite liked it here and he pouted at Thorin, his curls thoroughly mussed and lips red from kissing.

He chased Thorin's lips again, trying to kiss him again. 'The tea can wait,' he said in a low voice, drawing Thorin's face closer but Thorin was having none of it. He grinned as he extracted himself from Bilbo, who crossed his arms crossly. Thorin didn't seem bothered and merely started making the tea himself. As he did so Bilbo called out, 'with milk!'

Thorin looked mildly surprised. 'Not dark and rich?' he teased, removing the tea bags from the cups.

'I've got you now,' Bilbo said, 'I don't need to pretend anymore.'

He saw the pleased look that appeared on Thorin's face at that and he sidled closer, but Thorin only smiled and pushed a cup into his hands before he could try and kiss him again. Sighing, Bilbo led him with the teas to the living room, seating himself at one end of the sofa while Thorin took the other. He took a sip of his tea and suddenly stopped, making a small exclamation.

'Oh,' he breathed. 'That's _good. You're_ good.' He took another sip. He'd never have clocked Thorin for a tea connoisseur but this that he'd made was perfect. Just as Bilbo liked it. He grinned at Thorin, who smiled back and then glanced back at his cup.

Bilbo moved up the sofa, edging closer until he was tucked neatly into Thorin's side. He was exceedingly comfy, Bilbo noted, despite the hard muscle he could feel under Thorin's clothes. Which he was wearing far too many of, Bilbo suddenly thought; he was even still wearing his _tie._

With deft fingers well practiced at removing items of clothing quickly, he reached up to undo it and had it halfway undone before Thorin registered what he was doing.

He spluttered and moved to set his cup on the coffee table, grabbing Bilbo's hands where they clutched the tie and stopping him. 'What are you doing?' he asked and Bilbo secretly smiled at the heightened colour of the man's cheeks.

'You're making me feel overdressed,' he complained, trying to reach again for the tie and this time Thorin let him undo it completely. When he was done Bilbo leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Thorin's lips before settling back down against his side. The warm weight of Thorin's arm curled around him and lips pressed a soft kiss to his head and he felt so warm and safe that he didn't want to leave. He could almost be happy to spend the rest of his days like this, with Thorin...

He snapped his eyes open. Where had _that_ come from?

He shifted a little, Thorin's warm arm branding him as he tried to ignore the heat coiling in his belly. If Thorin was happy to sit like this, not an inch between them, perhaps he'd be amenable to...a little more?

'Thorin,' he said quietly, shifting even closer and twisting so that he was nearly facing Thorin, who drew his other arm around him tightly. Bilbo reached up to play with a strand of Thorin's hair, enjoying the feel of its softness, but it just fanned the flames of his desire until he felt wound tight as a spring. 'Thorin, I...' Giving up on words, Bilbo kissed him again, more fiercely and hungrily than he had before now and Thorin let out a gasp before his lips were locked with Bilbo's. Bilbo brought his hands up to Thorin's face, stubble prickling at his cheeks and his palms as he manoeuvred himself until he was straddling Thorin. And if that didn't get his blood pumping, nothing ever would.

'I don't want tea,' Bilbo whispered into Thorin's small, round ear. 'I want _you_.'

Thorin gave a soft groan and his hands found their way to Bilbo's hips; Bilbo was just about to grin with victory and anticipation until Thorin spoke, his voice deep and husky. 'No,' he bit out, his hands tightening on Bilbo's hips for a moment before he moved them up to where Bilbo's hands were fiddling with his shirt buttons. 'We shouldn't.'

'Why?' Bilbo asked, voice low as he looked into Thorin's eyes, the pupils dilated with desire and even more beautiful as such than normal. 'Why not?' He ground his hips against Thorin's even as he spoke, making Thorin stifle a groan and bite his lip.

'I don't like...rushing,' Thorin replied, his voice cracking a little on the last word as Bilbo's hands moved to explore the planes of his chest even through the shirt.

Bilbo reclaimed his lips again, nibbling on the lower one. 'Please?' He let his hand trail, nails catching on the fabric of Thorin's shirt.

'You,' Thorin said around the lingering kisses, 'are impossible.' His breath hitched when Bilbo moved again and very carefully he removed himself from underneath him, settling Bilbo pouting beside him.

'It's your own fault for being so attractive,' Bilbo complained as he tried not to let his petulance and utter frustration show. He'd got _so_ close... But Thorin just laughed and pressed a kiss to his ear.

'If I didn't stop now, I never would,' he said gruffly and the thought made Bilbo's want burn even more strongly.

'That would be a good thing,' Bilbo said, his voice silky soft in the way that had won his potential partners for the night over in a heartbeat. But Thorin remained unmoved and Bilbo huffed in frustration before turning it into a gentle smile and pulling Thorin back so that he could lean into him again. His stomach gave a rumble then and Thorin laughed as Bilbo looked up at him and asked if he'd like food.

Bilbo cooked them his mother's recipe for beef cobbler, making the floury scones so fast there was only one person Thorin had seen match the speed - his sister. He also couldn't deny that the sight of Bilbo with flour up to his elbows was decidedly attractive, and he couldn't help himself from kissing away the little smudge that appeared on his nose when Bilbo tried to flick his hair out of his eyes. Bilbo gave Thorin many sly glances throughout the meal and was glad his table was a small one, their knees practically touching under the wooden surface. And then Thorin was making to leave, and Bilbo was kissing him goodbye so long and so passionately that he thought for a moment he'd convinced Thorin to stay, but soon enough he was gone, leaving Bilbo alone in his flat.

He shut the door and let out a loud huff of angry irritation, nearly kicking the door frame before thinking that that would only hurt him more than the door. A Baggins is nothing if not practical.

Later he rang Nori, who was with Bofur at the time, which didn't surprise Bilbo in the slightest. His two friends were completely blind to the other's feelings, it seemed, and it looked like he'd be the one to knock some sense into their heads eventually.

'Bilbo! You're ringing late. How'd it go?' Bofur sounded excited from the other end of the phone, speaking over Nori, and Bilbo would have laughed if he hadn't been so frustrated.

'Terrible,' he said shortly. 'Nori's right. He refused me... I was right there!' he complained to his friends' sympathetic ears. 'I was _on_ him, sitting on this very sofa...' Hm, the cushions still smelled of him. That was...nice. '...And he said _no!'..._

* * *

 

The journey home was a blur. Dís' face was triumphant but he managed to evade her questions, saying goodnight to his nephews before collapsing on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a grin on his face and feeling more than a little light-headed. Was this why people took drugs? Surely this was better. He had to stifle his laughter into his pillow so as not to wake the boys or pique Dís' interest.

Bilbo had _wanted_ him. His eyes, his kisses, his... Thorin didn't dare believe it. He undressed and curled up under the covers, thinking about Bilbo. He'd had his fair share of people interested in him but at the end of the day, it had never really been _him_ they'd wanted - his body or his money. But Bilbo felt genuine, and Thorin was _not_ going to jeopardise things with him by rushing it.

And if he was honest, he was a little afraid. What if Bilbo _was_ only after his body, or his money? If the former then he'd drop Thorin like a burning coal as soon as Thorin allowed himself into his bed, and Thorin didn't want to think about going back to how things were before. To lonely nights and solitary lunch times and a weight on his back, existing but not truly living. One taste of Bilbo's lips had been enough to make him live again, and Thorin was terrified it would disappear.

So he remained reluctant to take things too far too fast and instead sent Bilbo a message saying how much he was missing him already and fell asleep remembering the feel of Bilbo's warm body pressed close to his, his lips everywhere at once and breath ghosting across his ear.

:::

He woke to Fíli gently shaking his shoulder. It was still dark outside, the deep indigo of the early hours, and Thorin blinked groggily a few times before he registered what was going on.

'Kíli's with mum,' Fíli was saying and his lips were trembling as if he were only just holding back tears. 'His arm's hurting again, Uncle, and I want it to stop. It makes him cry,' Fíli said, his hair pale in the dark room and Thorin could see tears pooling in the lad's eyes and glinting in the light of the street lamps outside.

'Hey,' Thorin soothed. He pulled Fíli to him in a hug and rubbed circles on his back to calm him. 'It's alright, Fíli. Your brother will be fine,' Thorin said, hoping against hope it was true. 'Come on.' He scooped Fíli up into his arms and held him close as he carried him across the landing to Dís' room.

She was cradling Kíli in her bed, kissing his sweaty brow and wiping away the tear tracks that remained on his cheeks as he breathed softly in sleep. She looked up at them as they entered and her face crumpled when she saw Fíli and she held out her arms for him. Immediately Fíli scrambled down and ran to her, burying himself in her arms as she rocked him back and forth, soothing him.

Thorin walked over to Kíli and stroked his little cheek. Kíli was so small, so little, and Fíli too young to be burdened with worry. When Dís lay back down, a worn-out Fíli falling asleep in her arms, Thorin curled himself around Kíli and found his sister's hand in the dark, clutching at each other as they did many years ago when they were all that was left.

When Dís' hand went slack in his and her quiet breathing joined that of his nephews, Thorin could only be grateful that he'd come home, that he hadn't given in and stayed with Bilbo. _This_ was his life, looking after his family, and guilt rushed through him that he'd been so willing to cast it all aside for the sake of some momentary pleasure found between the sheets.

They came first and if his relationship with Bilbo was detrimental to them at all, then he would do what needed to be done.

 :::

He was late for work the next day, instead making sure to spend time with his nephews over breakfast. He'd woken up to Kíli's feet in his face, the lad somehow having shifted around during the night and attached himself like a limpet to his brother.

Dwalin gave him a knowing look when he entered the office. 'I take it last night was a success then?' he said, eyebrows raised, and Thorin bit out a negative reply.

'If you think spending the night trying to soothe your crying nephews to sleep is a success, then yes. If you mean Bilbo -' he paused, remembering the evening. It had been the best evening he'd spent in a long time. 'If you mean Bilbo,' he said slowly, 'then yes. It was good.'

Dwalin grinned and looked mightily pleased with himself

Thorin glared at him. 'Shut up.'

'I didn't say a word,' Dwalin protested, lifting his hands to proclaim his innocence.

'No, but you're thinking plenty,' Thorin grumbled.

'Honestly, I'd think you'd be a little more relaxed after last night-'

'We didn't _do_ anything,' Thorin said. 'Nothing more than kissing.' And those kisses were wonderful things, hot and heady and sweet, and he thought that he would be content having only those kisses for the rest of his life; but then he remembered the feel of Bilbo's body pressed close to him and he knew he wanted more.

Irritably he shook himself.

'Why not?' Dwalin looked nonplussed.

'You _know_ why, Dwalin,' Thorin sighed. 'I don't... If I act on what I want, I'm scared it will disappear. As soon as we _do..._ it feels like it's all going to slip away.' He gave a wry smile. 'And I'm not sure that I want to be saying goodbye to Bilbo for a while yet.'

* * *

 

Bilbo's grip tightened on his mouse and he breathed sharply, closing his eyes and trying desperately to keep calm. He just couldn't forget Thorin and how right it had been in his arms, on him, _with_ him. He couldn't concentrate on his work, not when every time he closed his eyes he saw blue ones, pupils blown dark and wide and hazy.

Again he breathed in sharply, exhaling slowly, and ignored Nori's glance in his direction.

'You alright, Bilbo?' Bofur asked him and Bilbo nodded. He wasn't, he was frustrated and annoyed but not at them. 'Nori and I are going out for drinks this evening,' Bofur continued. 'Do you want to join us?'

'And ruin the mood for you two lovebirds? I'm alright, actually, thanks,' he said drily, staring at his computer screen.

'Bilbo!' Nori exclaimed as Bofur protested 'We're - we're not -'

Bilbo just gave them both a look and they returned to their work, avoiding the other's eye and pink-cheeked. Bilbo rolled his eyes; these two were honestly blind as bats... That, or thick.

He let out a sudden sigh of frustration, making the others jump, and snatched up his jacket. 'I'm going for lunch,' he muttered.

'It's only eleven-'

'Brunch, then. I'm getting brunch.'

And with that Bilbo stalked off, desperate to just get out into the fresh air. It was stuffy in that office and he couldn't concentrate anyway; he wasn't being completely fair to Bofur and Nori, and he knew it, but he couldn't help it.

As soon as he got outside he breathed deeply, the brisk breeze warming with the promise of summer as it brushed his cheek and the smell of sun in the trees strong. He was always more comfortable outdoors, in the open air and surrounded by trees and flowers. As a child he'd spent hours climbing trees in the forest near his home, fashioning huts out of branches and learning the names of the birds from his father while his mother had taught him the plants - which wild herbs were good to eat, which could be used to cure certain ailments and - Bilbo's favourite - numerous lessons on wild mushrooms.

His head felt clearer and immediately better just from being outside and not in that huge impersonal office noisy with the sounds of computers and people drinking multiple mugs of coffee. His hand reached for his mobile but he stopped it when he knew, in a moment of clarity, that he'd been about to text Thorin. That was... He'd never had the urge to contact any of his fling partners again, not like this. Admittedly he was still in the middle of his "fling" with Thorin, if it could be called that, but still... It was disconcerting.

Feeling calmer he headed back inside and managed to make significantly more headway on his workload and by lunch time he sat back in his chair and stretched, feeling his knuckles and back crick with stiffness.

His mobile buzzed with a text message then and he was surprised to see it from Thorin - normally Bilbo would initiate their conversations.

_I was wondering. I'm sorry I didn't stay last night but I hoped I could make it up to you today? Would you like to get dinner together?_

Bilbo smiled, pleased by this turn of events and wasted no time in telling the others.

He knew Thorin wanted him - he'd felt the evidence, after all - but did he want him _enough,_ to abandon his strict moral code and just tumble him already?

_I'm so sorry, but a couple of mates of mine have invited me out tonight so I can't meet you._

Being forward hadn't worked, so there was really only one thing to do.

_Mates? Where are you going?_

He'd make him so jealous he was desperate for him and would practically _beg_ Bilbo to fall into bed.

_Mates as in friends, yes I do have them! Where we're going I don't know, but I'll probably be out late._

There was a long wait before Thorin's message arrived. _They're just friends though? We're still ...?_

Bilbo smirked. This was perfect. **_Of course_** _they're just friends, Thorin! But I've rather neglected them recently. And of course we're still...! If you still want to be, that is._

The wait until the next message was very much shorter. _Of course I do! I can hardly stop thinking about you, Bilbo. What about tomorrow, are you free then?_

_We'll just have to see..._

Bilbo put his phone away then, grinning and feeling much better than he had before.

 :::

He joined Nori and Bofur that evening, following them to the nearby pub and joining them at their usual table, but he was quieter than usual and Bofur kept glancing at him as he stared into the amber contents of his pint glass.

He didn't stay long, finding himself fidgeting and his mind wandering until he didn't even notice when Bofur spoke to him and Nori snapped at him.

'Honestly, Bilbo, stop looking like the world has ended just because Thorin doesn't want to sleep with you. Get over it,' he said irritably, and Bilbo had no reply for a moment, staring at Nori blankly.

So he stood up and stalked out, saying nothing and ignoring Bofur's calls and reprimands to Nori, headed home. He knew he'd been out of it a bit but had Nori needed to snap so? Well, bugger him, Bilbo thought. Or better yet, he should stop pissing around and get Bofur to bugger him and leave Bilbo alone.

And alone he was, when he got home. He snorted; Friday night and he was home in his dark flat at just gone nine. Normally he'd be out, at his best, either picking someone up or being picked up himself and would invariably find himself with someone else in his bed. He prided himself that he'd only ever forgotten their names twice, out of all the numerous bed partners he'd had.

He switched the living room light on and flopped down on the sofa, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He just felt so lethargic, like he couldn't summon the energy to do anything and his thoughts kept wandering back to Thorin, to what Bilbo was sure he had hidden under all those clothes. Suddenly he just wanted to hear Thorin's voice.

Fishing his phone from his pocket he rang Thorin's number, hoping he'd pick up.

'Bilbo?' He sounded tired but the low timbre of that voice was enough to send Bilbo's stomach into knots. 'I thought you were out.'

'I was. But my friends are incredibly dull, and I just wanted to hear you talk,' Bilbo sighed happily.

'Have you been drinking, Bilbo?' Thorin asked warily.

'A little,' Bilbo admitted. _Not enough to not know what I'm doing._ He should just put the phone down and carry on as he'd planned, playing hard to get and inflaming Thorin's jealous streak. Talking on the phone like this would just make Thorin think him desperate. 'I want to know what you look like without your shirt,' he said suddenly and let out a tiny giggle which he quickly smothered.

'I think you should go to bed,' Thorin said and Bilbo could hear the smirk in his voice.

'I'm not that drunk, I swear,' Bilbo protested. 'But we've been together for a week now, Thorin, and all you've done is kiss me. You're bloody brilliant, I grant you, but a man has needs...'

There was silence for such a long time that Bilbo had to check that Thorin hadn't hung up, until Thorin's voice suddenly blurted from the other end of the phone, 'Meet my family.'

'I - what?' Bilbo sat up.

'Tomorrow. Come to my house and meet my sister and nephews properly, over dinner maybe. _Then..._ ' The pause afterward, heavy with promise, made Bilbo's heart race faster and he could practically taste victory.

'I'd love to,' he said, sounding sincere. 'I'd love to meet them again.'

Thorin let out a huff of what sounded like relief. 'Then I'll see you tomorrow? You're not busy? I can pick you up if you like.'

'I'm not busy,' Bilbo said, settling back into the sofa cushions, head resting on the arm. 'Would you mind terribly?'

'I wouldn't have offered otherwise, love,' Thorin said indulgently. 'Then I can't wait. Dís has been practically gasping to have you over since you met at the hospital.'

'Your sister seems like a scary lady,' Bilbo laughed, hiccupping slightly. 'Lovely, but scary. She won't try and kill me if I say something wrong, or get her the wrong flowers or something, will she?'

'No,' Thorin chuckled. 'She only goes into full scary mode with me and the boys, and you should have seen her with Frerin...' Thorin's voice tailed off and Bilbo heard him swallow thickly.

'Thorin?'

'I'm sorry, I -'

'It's fine, really. Honestly. I think you're right, though, I'm going to bed now... I'll see you tomorrow then?'

'I'll pick you up at five. Goodnight, Bilbo.'

'Night, Thorin.'

Bilbo disconnected and shifted on the sofa, ignoring how much lighter his heart felt. It was simply because of Thorin's unspoken promise and the taste of victory it offered, the free drinks Nori would have to buy him tantalising him. But that was _all,_ nothing more, nothing less.

He shifted again; this was comfy, right here, and he couldn't be bothered to get up to go to bed so he drew the blanket from across the back of the sofa over himself, dreaming of himself and Thorin and very imaginative uses of food.

 :::

The next day Bilbo ignored all his messages from Nori and most of Bofur's. Instead he watched daytime TV, also a rarity for him, going out at lunchtime to get a pretty bunch of flowers for Dís. He settled on one with green leaves and bright golden gerberas, little sprigs of baby's breath and long grass and yellow roses. It was exceedingly pretty - almost as much as the lady who ran the stall - but he remembered who he was seeing in only a few short hours, so limited his flirting to a dimpled smile.

Then he lazed about until it was time to get himself ready. He ignored the ever more frantic buzzing of his phone receiving Nori's messages until at half four he was basically ready.

As ready as he'd ever be, he thought.

Twiddling his thumbs for a while and making certain he was absolutely ready, Bilbo had to laugh at himself. Why was he suddenly so _nervous?_ It wasn't like he'd never gone on a date before - in fact, he'd been on more dates than he cared to remember - so he forced himself to be calm. He despaired when the butterflies all came back to life when there was a knock on his door, loud and slow, and he chided himself for being stupid. It was only Thorin, and hopefully by tonight he'd have won his bet and he could move on.

It was indeed Thorin on the other side of the door and he smiled sweetly at Bilbo as he opened the door before kissing him fiercely, passionately, the force of it pushing Bilbo back inside the flat as Thorin kicked the door shut behind them.

When Bilbo was flush against the wall they broke apart, breathing heavily and two high spots of colour on Thorin's cheeks, and Bilbo smiled up and laughed breathlessly, still gasping. 'That was a very enthusiastic greeting,' he said, smoothing Thorin's cheeks with his palm.

'We're going to be surrounded by kids and a nosy sister all evening,' Thorin said in a low voice, resting his head against Bilbo's. He had to stoop a little, even with Bilbo stretching up to meet him, and Bilbo ignored how sweet the gesture was.

Bilbo grinned and slipped out of Thorin's arms. 'You'll just have to make it up to me afterwards,' he said and felt a surge of triumph when he saw Thorin's eyes darken as he swallowed.

'Trust me, I will,' he said, capturing Bilbo again in a kiss which became steadily ever more desperate. Eventually Bilbo pulled away first, resting a hand on Thorin's chest. He could feel the warmth the man radiated even through his jacket.

'Don't you think your sister might wonder where we've got to if we're late?' he asked and Thorin grumbled, worrying instead at Bilbo's ear.

'No, she'd know exactly where we got to,' Thorin admitted, his warm hands heavy weights on Bilbo's shoulder and waist. At Bilbo's look he stepped away with a sigh, releasing him so that he could put his coat on, and Bilbo picked up the flowers he'd got for Thorin's sister. Thorin's eyes widened and said Dís had always liked gerberas, which made Bilbo swell with pride as he took his hand to lead them out of the flat and down to Thorin's car.

They got in and started driving after only a short pause while they kissed, Bilbo absolutely delighted at the way Thorin's lips so hungrily devoured his own. After tonight he'd have won his bet and Nori would have to accept that Bilbo Baggins was indeed a master of seduction. He frowned; if this was what he wanted, why then was there as much doubt as success coiling in his stomach? Why did the prospect not fill him with the all-consuming glee he'd anticipated from the beginning?

'Bilbo? Are you alright?' Thorin's voice broke into his thoughts and Bilbo quickly smoothed his brow and put on his most winning smile as he turned to Thorin.

'It's nothing. I'm fine,' he said, touching his hand lightly to Thorin's arm, 'really.'

Thorin gave a small smile and turned back to the road. Bilbo exhaled and fiddled with his buttons, nerves mounting as they neared Thorin's house and his family.

* * *

Bilbo was very quiet next to him so before they rounded the last corner, Thorin pulled aside and stopped the car.

'Bilbo, you don't have to do this,' he started but Bilbo protested.

'Yes I _do,'_ he said vehemently and caught Thorin's hand with his own, twining the fingers as he looked at Thorin and gave a smile that was so very Bilbo that Thorin couldn't help himself from mirroring it. He leant forward to catch Bilbo's lips in a chaste kiss, the merest brush of his lips against Bilbo's but it made Bilbo give a tiny sigh as Thorin drew away.

'They'll love you,' Thorin reassured him. 'My nephews already do, and my sister's been desperate to have you over properly.' He gently touched Bilbo's cheek before starting the car again. 'Please don't worry.'

Thorin moved off and not five minutes later they were pulling up in the driveway. Thorin could hear the muffled sound of his nephews' excited shouts from the house as they called to Dís as he got out of the car to help Bilbo out of the other side. Bilbo heard them too when he was out and he grinned.

Thorin led him to the front door and fished out his keys.

'I didn't know you rode a motorbike, Thorin,' Bilbo said from behind him. Thorin shook his head as he set the key in the lock.

'I don't.'

'Then why...?' Thorin froze as Bilbo's question tailed off and he indicated to a motorbike parked over on the other side of the drive. A motorbike that was all too familiar.

The door was suddenly pulled open from the inside, taking Thorin's keys with it and he stared blankly at the person standing in the now open doorway.

'That's not your sister,' he heard Bilbo say quietly behind him before the man at the door grinned.

'Thorin,' Dwalin said and turned to Bilbo. 'You must be Bilbo.'

Bilbo looked panicked for the tiniest second before he smiled. 'Yes. You must be...'

'Dwalin,' Dwalin grinned. Thorin glared at him. 'I doubt Thorin will have told you much about me. I'm his cousin.'

'Oh,' Bilbo sounded slightly surprised and Thorin could feel his eyes on him. 'No, he didn't really mention you at _all...'_

Thorin cringed and ushered Bilbo inside, pushing past Dwalin and fixing him with a glare, to which his cousin just laughed. As Thorin took Bilbo's coat Dwalin kept up a stream of chatter; it was the most vocal Thorin had seen him aside from when he was ribbing Thorin.

'Well Thorin hasn't stopped talking about you the whole time since he met you. I tell you, we've barely heard about much else...'

Bilbo chuckled at that and allowed Thorin to wrap his arm around his waist as he led them to the living room. No sooner had they entered than Fíli and Kíli came running in and attached themselves firmly to Bilbo's middle. He laughed and knelt down to their height to greet them properly, ruffling Fíli's golden hair and asking Kíli how he was doing. The sight made Thorin's heart swell and he had to smile, watching his boyfriend and his nephews together.

And then Bilbo straightened and the boys stole the honour of introducing Bilbo to Dís. She was in the kitchen; Thorin could see the tension in Bilbo's shoulders as he greeted Dís formally but it all evaporated when Dís pulled him into a warm hug.

‘It’s so good to finally meet you _properly_ ,’ she said. ‘Can I get you tea? Coffee?’

‘Tea, please,’ Bilbo smiled. ‘It’s nice to see you again too.’ He presented her with the flowers and after that Dís decided she wanted to keep Bilbo right there with her, and drew him into conversation about gardening and things Thorin hadn’t the foggiest about.

While Bilbo sat with Dís in the kitchen, Thorin took Dwalin aside.

'What are you _doing_ here?' he hissed.

'Dís invited me,' Dwalin sounded hurt. 'You never introduced me to him all those times he came to work, and _someone's_ got to give 'im the shovel talk. Fíli can't hardly do that, can 'e?'

 _'No_ ,' Thorin said immediately. 'You don't need to do that to Bilbo-'

'Come on, you'd grudge me the chance? Balin was already grown by the time I'd 'a been any use,' he complained. 'And we've always been close, Thorin. I swear I won't scare him, at least, not much.'

Thorin sighed. 'I love Bilbo, Dwalin. If you scare him off I swear I will do something drastic and painful to your person.'

Dwalin grinned and punched Thorin's shoulder before heading off back in the direction of the kitchen. Thorin followed a couple of moments later and when he reached the kitchen, Dís was peering through the window at Dwalin and Bilbo in the garden. Dwalin was glaring at Bilbo but the smaller man seemed to be holding his ground, and eventually Dwalin grinned his huge grin and Thorin let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and Dís chuckled beside him.

'I hate you, Dís,' Thorin said in a low voice as the others made their way back to the house, but with no real malice. 'That was cruel of you to invite _Dwalin,_ of all people.'

Dís just laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Bilbo was smiling shyly at Thorin when he came back inside and he didn't look to have been scared by Dwalin's talk, but there was a tension in his smaller frame that Thorin could feel when he hugged him.

'He's a keeper, this one,' Dwalin said loudly to Dís and they both laughed. Bilbo smiled and looked at Thorin softly but Thorin didn't miss the stiffness to his body. He had no time to ask him about it because Dís was putting dinner on the table, the bunch of flowers in pride of place, and there was suddenly chaos as Fíli and Kíli came running in at the first smell of food.

Dinner was everything Thorin loved and more, and everything their dinners usually weren't; noisy and loud and fun, made all the better by the warmth of Bilbo beside him. Throughout the meal Bilbo would put a hand on Thorin's knee under the table or press their legs together as he laughed at some joke Dwalin had made, sending sparks shooting through Thorin. He wouldn't have changed it for the world.

It grew dark outside as they ate, Dís pleased at Bilbo's hearty appreciation of her food, and afterwards Fíli and Kíli managed to force or coerce everyone into playing their board game with them. It was so different to their usually fairly quiet routine and the boys were making the most of it.

'Bilbo, will we get to see Frodo again?' Fíli asked as the game was drawing to a close. 'We haven't seen him in a while.'

'I'm sure you can soon,' Bilbo replied. 'His shoulder's playing up but I'm sure it's just his mum fussing. I'll see what they're doing next weekend, maybe?'

Both Fíli and Kíli agreed with that heartily. As Bilbo laughed at something one of them said, Thorin looked at him. He couldn't believe his luck, to be given Bilbo when he'd given up on love. Someone who made him laugh and smile and...other things. Suddenly he was glad they were seated at a table.

Bilbo's warmth beside him became sweet torture for Thorin until eventually the game ended and the boys looked exhausted from the excitement of the day, and it was time to take Bilbo home. Thorin saw the question in Bilbo's eyes as he got him his coat. Fíli and Kíli hugged Bilbo tightly as they said goodbye, as did Dís and from Dwalin he got a slap on the back, although notably gentler than the ones he gave Thorin.

'Come back soon,' Dís said sternly to Bilbo, who promised he would.

As Thorin pecked Dís on the cheek before leaving she whispered in his ear, 'stay with him tonight. Dwalin will help here if it comes to it.'

Thorin's throat went dry and he nodded, giving Dís a look full of gratitude. His throat certainly was dry and his stomach was squeezing and coiling with nerves.

The journey back was quiet, the air so full of anticipation Thorin could almost taste it. He felt Bilbo's eyes on him throughout the journey and it just made his heart race even faster. Eventually they reached Bilbo's flat and they sat in the car for a moment, Thorin hardly daring to breathe.

'I told you they'd like you,' he said, turning to Bilbo who was suddenly kissing him, hot and heavy kisses that took Thorin's breath away until he kissed him back.

Bilbo groaned as Thorin's hands came up to cradle his face and they paused for breath, each breathing heavily in the dark car. 'I've wanted to kiss you all evening,' he said, his voice lower than usual and Thorin felt heat flood through him at the sound. 'Please, say you'll stay.'

A small hand touched Thorin's cheek gently and he leaned into it. 'I'll stay,' he whispered.

* * *

Bilbo lay in his dim bedroom, his skin burning up from Thorin's kisses and touches so much he was almost feverish, Thorin's arms wrapped around him as he slept. He had Bilbo's head tucked neatly under his chin and little puffs of air brushed across his face, as intimate and gentle as a kiss.

Bilbo had everything he'd wanted - he'd succeeded in getting Thorin to sleep with him. So why did he feel so _empty?_

Not empty. He felt _guilt_ and something unidentifiable washing through his veins in a great tide, so strong they made the waves of pleasure he'd felt earlier pale into insignificance. He wriggled out of Thorin's grip enough to reach his mobile, in his trouser pocket, close to the bed where his clothes had been shed in a hurry.

It was early, just after one in the morning. He texted Nori.

_I've done it. I've won the bet._

He watched the screen as it sent and when it was done he switched it off, unable to bear the thought of Nori's answer, and stuffed it into the drawer on the bedside table.

Thorin stirred in his sleep and tightened his grip on Bilbo, who moved closer without resistance. Thorin hadn't been a disappointment - he knew what he was doing and Bilbo revelled in it. Thorin had to be one of, if not _the,_ best partners he'd ever had. _This_ was different, too; he never cuddled or held the partners he picked up, but Thorin had pulled him close as soon as they'd caught their breath, locking those strong, warm arms around Bilbo, making him feel safe and cared for. And that was an unusual feeling indeed for Bilbo, found as it was in the arms of his _mark._

But that there was the problem: Thorin was just a mark, but to Thorin, Bilbo was... _Beautiful, wonderful, his first in years_... To Thorin, Bilbo was a boyfriend. _His_ boyfriend.

 :::

The sun was well up by the time Bilbo woke, spilling sunshine into the bedroom. Thorin was already awake and watching him as he woke up, a gentle smile on his face before he leant down and pressed a kiss to Bilbo's nose.

'You're lovely,' he said and Bilbo felt an echo of the guilt wash through him. He pushed those thoughts away; he couldn't afford to let Thorin see any hint of them.

'So are you,' he said, rolling over onto his front so he was leaning over Thorin. 'More than lovely...' He ran his hands teasingly over Thorin's chest, grinning as he shivered at the touch, until Thorin caught his hands and rolled them both over again, trapping Bilbo beneath him.

'But you're perfect,' he whispered into Bilbo's ear, and Bilbo won his bet for the second time

 :::

It was Bilbo who made them get up, his stomach grumbling as if to reprimand him for neglecting it for so long.

'I'd have eaten twice already by now, normally,' he told Thorin as he cooked them eggs and bacon.

'Twice? It's not even lunchtime,' Thorin had looked surprised even as he regarded Bilbo with a mixture of wonder and fondness that made Bilbo's insides turn into a mess of strange knots, uncomfortably heavy in his gut.

'First and second breakfast,' he explained. 'And elevenses, when I have time-' He was cut off in his explanation as Thorin decided to kiss him then, until Bilbo yanked himself away when the eggs started spitting frantically as they began to burn.

It was as if Bilbo had truly opened the dam of Thorin's affections, both emotional and especially physical - not that Bilbo minded particularly, when once again they ended up on the sofa, their kisses incredibly heated and heady. Thorin simply looked at Bilbo, taking him in, and the intensity of what Bilbo saw there in Thorin's eyes - happiness, luck, _love_ \- scared him. He'd won his bet, he should just let him down easy and leave his life for good while he enjoyed his drinks from Nori. Thorin noticed the frown that puckered his forehead and kissed it away gently.

'Are you sad, my love?' he asked in worry.

'No. Not sad,' Bilbo reassured him, smoothing his hand down Thorin's stubbly cheek. _Just confused.  
_

* * *

He knew he had to leave before it grew too late but it was so warm and comfortable on Bilbo's sofa with Bilbo himself curled up, head on Thorin's chest.

Eventually he did leave, although he wanted nothing more than to carry Bilbo off with him and take him home and never let him go again. Bilbo laughed when he told him that, and kissed him one last time before pushing him out to his car.

Thorin forced himself to concentrate on the road and not on how Bilbo's lips had felt, his hair, his skin; what he'd sounded like as Thorin's hands explored that skin and how he'd gripped and pulled at Thorin's short hair... He gripped the steering wheel tightly; it wouldn't do to go and kill himself in a car accident the very first day of a new era for Thorin Durin.

Dís' smile when he shut the door behind him was that of a cat who'd got the cream; she couldn't hide her smile and her eyes had a wicked gleam. Fíli and Kíli came running when they heard him, throwing themselves at him and almost knocking him over. It was the first time he hadn't been at home overnight since...well. A very long time.

He ruffled their hair and told them he'd be outside to play in a little bit before turning to Dís. 'Where's Dwalin?'

'He left about an hour ago.' Dís' smile widened. 'Did you sleep well?'

Thorin just looked at her and she let out a little gasp. 'Oh, please don't tell me Bilbo didn't want to-'

'He _wanted_ to!' Thorin cut her off. 'Multiple times,' he admitted, flushing a furious scarlet. Little sisters were so embarrassing and terribly cruel.

'Then what's the problem?'

Thorin sighed. 'There's not. I'm happy. I just... It scares me sometimes, Dís, how much I feel for Bilbo. _What_ I feel for him. It terrifies me that it might all disappear, just like that.' Thorin rubbed his temples as he collapsed into the soft cushions of the sofa.

Dís placed a soft hand on his arm. 'You don't have to be afraid any more, Thorin. Bilbo loves you, I'm sure of it, and I _forbid_ you from ruining it with your silly fears.' She smiled. 'Now, go and wash and get changed before you go outside. And you're washing those clothes yourself.'

Thorin smiled as his sister headed off to the kitchen. She was right, as usual; considering he was the older of the two, Dís was the sensible one. He went and got changed, smelling Bilbo on the clothes as he pulled them off, and went downstairs to play in the garden with his nephews.

Throughout the rest of the day he couldn't stop smiling, feeling pretty much ready to burst. Bilbo was his, _his_ , his alone and Thorin let himself feel, let the remnants of the walls around his heart crumble and let Bilbo and thoughts of him consume him.

:::

It was Monday the next day and he had work, but Thorin found himself smiling as he entered the building that morning. He hadn't felt so enthusiastic about work in a long time, although it was short-lived - Dwalin's knowing grin was enough to make him sigh.

'So,' he said when he saw Thorin. 'How was it? Balin asked me to pass on his congratulations, by the way.'

'You told him?' Thorin groaned. 'But I wasn't - It's still early days, Dwalin. Anything could happen and we could break up, who knows-'

'The lad loves you, Thorin,' Dwalin waved his protests away. 'Even I could see that, just in the way he looked at you. But you didn't answer me - how was it?'

'I'm not talking about it,' Thorin said. 'It's between myself and Bilbo.'

'You're no fun, Thorin,' Dwalin complained. 'You'd 'ave told Frerin, if he were here.'

'But he's not,' Thorin pointed out. 'Please, don't bring Frerin into this, Dwalin.'

'Why? You don't like facing up to what happened? It wasn't your fault, Thorin-'

'Just stop,' he said, a little too harshly. 'I wasn't there, and I couldn't save him, just as I couldn't save my father. Please, Dwalin, just leave it?'

Dwalin looked about to protest but he nodded in resignation. Thorin sighed in relief, but nearly ground his teeth to dust when Dwalin suddenly piped up, 'You still didn't say if Bilbo's good in bed or not.'

Sometimes Thorin hated having stubborn Durin relatives who were so like himself.

:::

Thorin didn't see Bilbo that day but they spoke, talking for a long while once Thorin had put the boys to bed. Bilbo sounded tired but just as cheerful as ever and Thorin went to sleep with Bilbo on his mind.

They met up on Tuesday evening, at Thorin's house so contact was fairly limited to chaste kisses or holding hands, rare heated exchanges in the momentary brief pauses when there were no children in the room. They sat together on the sofa as Fíli and Kíli played, occasionally voicing a request to one or the other of them; Bilbo was curled against Thorin, Thorin’s arm wrapped tight around him.

‘The boys look like you, you know,’ Bilbo said quietly. ‘Well, like Dis, but you two look so similar. Kíli especially looks like you.’

‘No,’ Thorin chuckled. ‘His father was very handsome; he’ll be much better looking than I am when he’s older.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Bilbo grinned up at him and Thorin couldn’t stop his own smile or the warmth that spread through him.

‘I was a scrawny child,’ Thorin protested. ‘My nose was too big for my face until I left my teens behind. Dis never let me forget it.’

‘Well, I like your nose,’ Bilbo said, laughing, and proceeded to press a kiss to it until Thorin caught his lips with his own and kissed him _properly_ ; that was interrupted however by a delightedly disgusted screech from Fíli and they broke apart, laughing.

When Kíli referred to Bilbo as his new "Uncle Bilbo", Bilbo started but didn't protest; on the contrary, his smile grew wider although Thorin did notice he fidgeted with his shirt, worrying at and creasing the edges. But Bilbo relaxed under Thorin's ministrations as he kissed him goodbye and Thorin made sure he'd be at Bilbo's after work the next day.

He was indeed and their coupling was fierce and passionate, needy with want and suppressed desire and Thorin had to leave all too soon to return to his nephews and sister.

His phone rang that Thursday afternoon as the afternoon grew later and towards the end of hours. Seeing the name of the caller, Thorin's heart leapt into his mouth.

'Doctor Thranduil?'

'Mr. Durin, good afternoon. We have news for you. These things take time but we have had word back from the labs about Kíli's blood sample, and it came back negative. Kíli is fine.'

'He's...fine?' Thorin repeated the only words he understood, needing to be certain he'd heard correctly.

'Yes, fine. The samples were conclusive this time and they all indicate that your nephew does _not_ have leukaemia. There may be something else causing his symptoms or he could just have very sensitive blood vessels, but the worst is behind you now.'

Dr Thranduil sounded honestly pleased to be able to tell him the news and Thorin would have hugged him if he could. 'Thank you, doctor,' he managed to get out, his voice thick as emotion threatened to overcome him. 'Thank you.'

Thranduil said he'd ring Dís then and Thorin hung up, rushing to his feet and grabbing his jacket. He grabbed Dwalin too, telling him the news excitedly as they made their way home. It was five and the boys would be at home with Dís; the relief was dizzying and Thorin just needed to be at home with them.

When he got home, Dwalin following hot on his heels, Dís was overjoyed and she hugged him close, clutching at him fiercely as she sagged in relief that her little baby was fine, at least for today. Answers to it would come in time, but for now just knowing that Kíli didn't have cancer was enough.

Thorin hugged his nephews too, still being careful with Kíli, who was still scrawny and skinny like a baby bird where Fíli was filling out for his age. He could feel a wetness in the corner of his eye and laughed as he wiped it away, almost delirious with happiness.

He suddenly thought maybe he _was_ delirious when he saw Bilbo in the doorway to the living room, smiling shyly behind Dís.

'Bilbo?' he asked. 'What are you doing here?'

He opened his mouth to speak but Dís interrupted him. ' _I_ invited him. I wanted him to be here; you know how the boys love him so. _And_ someone else too.' She looked at him pointedly and Thorin ducked his head, going to Bilbo and wrapping his arms around his waist as Bilbo settled his around his neck.

'I'm so happy,' Bilbo whispered quietly. 'I'm so relieved for you.' He drew back and smiled. Thorin frowned then; something wasn't right with Bilbo. His smile was too serene, not the coy grins he'd flashed Thorin all the time before; his laugh not as loud and carefree as before. Thorin smoothed a loose wayward curl, tucking it behind his ear.

'Are you alright, Bilbo? You seem...drained.' Thorin cradled his face in his hands gently.

'I'm just a little tired, that's all,' Bilbo smiled and pulled away, but not before pressing a quick soft kiss to Thorin's nose.

He moved off to hug the boys and Thorin watched him, slightly unnerved at the change in him but he had no time to dwell on it, instead being ushered into the kitchen to help Dwalin make dinner.

After a hectic evening with everyone high on relief, although the boys were too young to understand what it all really meant, Thorin finally had a quiet moment to pull Bilbo aside. He took him out to the garden, quiet and dark but for the yellow squares of light on the grass from the windows.

Thorin stroked Bilbo's curls; he didn't think he'd ever get enough of the feel of them, silky soft on his palm and his lips when he kissed him. Bilbo leaned into his touch and they kissed, chastely at first but growing gradually deeper.

'Bilbo,' Thorin said when they paused for breath, and he didn't know a more beautiful sight at that moment than Bilbo's eyes, dark with desire but gentle with...dare he say it, love? 'Bilbo, I have to ask you. Would...would you like to stay tonight? I know there's work tomorrow but... Mahal, I want you, Bilbo,' he said, his voice low and gruff.

Bilbo stroked a hand through his own hair and stood on his toes to claim his lips again. 'I'm staying,' he whispered, and Thorin captured his face and held it gently between his face before chuckling softly and kissing him.

'Sometimes I think I'm dreaming,' he admitted. 'That I'm going to wake up and this will all have been nothing but a night fancy.'

Bilbo seemed to pause when he said that, but then he smiled and ran his fingers along Thorin's chest.

'Can dreams do this?' he whispered, mirth in his voice. 'Or this?' kissing him deep and long until they had to come up for air. 'Or this...' His hand travelled lower and Thorin had to catch it as he croaked out one word-

'Bedroom!'

* * *

Bilbo was an idiot. He was a stupid fool who'd made a mess of everything. He decided that at work as he told Nori and Bofur everything, their faces ranging from amusement to disbelief to horror as he said the damning words:

'I love him. Thorin. I love Thorin.'

His friends said nothing, shock rendering them speechless.

'Bilbo,' Nori said hoarsely after a while. 'Please tell me you're joking.'

Bilbo shook his head miserably, staring at the floor.

Silence reigned for a few moments until Nori spoke again. 'Well. Fuck.'

Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them and looking pleadingly at his friends. 'I couldn't help it. He's... He's different from all the others and he _really_ loves me, not like everyone else-'

'That's a _bit_ of a problem, Bilbo, because you're supposed to be breaking up with him now you've got what you wanted!' Nori interrupted him fiercely. 'You won them so I'll get you your drinks, but don't ask me to tell you _this_...is a good idea!' His face softened for a moment. 'I've told you, Bilbo, Thorin doesn't _love_ like normal people do. In all his life he's never really had a partner-'

'That doesn't mean he doesn't _love,'_ Bilbo protested. 'It just means he loves truly. I've seen him, Nori; I've seen his eyes as he looks at me and he _does_ love, he loves _me -'_

'Stop this, Bilbo!' Nori hissed, taking a deep breath before carrying on. 'Bilbo, just _stop._ You're a _Heart-Stealer,_ you say it yourself, you steal other people's hearts, not...go and lose your own.'

'I know.' Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing himself not to tear up. If he'd just kept his head and guarded his heart properly, as he'd done ever since he'd first had it broken... He wouldn't be in this mess.

'Bilbo...' Bofur's soft voice, usually so cheerful, was low and sad. 'I won't pretend to know how you feel but you have to realise... You'll lose your column if you stay with Thorin. It'll be back to your old recipes and Ring-Winner will disappear.'

Bilbo nodded and took a deep breath, wiping away the slight beads of moisture that were forming in his eyes. 'I know,' he said again.

But his intentions all flew out the window later that afternoon when he answered his phone, only to find Dís was on the other end and wanted him to come to the Durin household immediately.

The others looked at him in confusion as he got up and put his jacket on. 'Where are you going?' Bofur asked.

'To Thorin's.'

'Bilbo...' Nori warned.

'For the last time, Nori. I have to be with them once more before I betray them all.'

And he turned and left, despairing over the situation. He never felt like he owed his partners anything, but Thorin was different. He'd made himself a part of the man's life, gained his trust and met his _family..._ Of course Bilbo was betraying Thorin, and them. He wished he'd just let this one bet pass, let Nori gloat until he forgot about it all and saved himself this heartache. He felt empty when he thought about what he had to do.

When Thorin saw him, the joyous surprise that appeared on his face was almost enough to undo Bilbo even as his heart leapt at the sight. And maybe it was selfishness that led him to agree to stay the night; his own selfish desire to have Thorin to himself one last time before he broke his heart. Bilbo had no doubt that it would; no matter what Nori said, Bilbo _knew_ Thorin loved him and it hurt him all the more.

The house was quiet as Thorin led him upstairs, everyone else in bed. Bilbo was grateful the room was dark so that Thorin couldn't see the guilt that clouded his vision as he gently, slowly removed Thorin's clothing, the way his lips trembled as Thorin took his off and pressed tiny soft kisses along his neck.

With each kiss pressed to Thorin's warm body he tried to remember each and every inch of it, all the little imperfections that were perfect to him; he tried to pour all his love and regret into his caresses and the kisses tasted bitter with goodbyes on his tongue.

It was slow, it was gentle and it was sweet; bitter sweet, when Thorin held him close afterwards and whispered 'I love you' into Bilbo's hair.

:::

Bilbo got up before Thorin, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure Thorin would hear it and wake; so he slipped out of Thorin's arms, feeling a shade emptier than when he was held safe and warm, and started to dress. He'd have to go home before heading to work, the clothes crumpled and wrinkled from lying on the floor where they'd been shed.

Thorin stirred as Bilbo dressed and Bilbo marvelled bitterly at how someone could be so breath-taking even in the mornings. He tried to smile, and managed it, although it was perhaps a little wobbly.

'You're up early,' Thorin said, his voice thick with sleep.

'I've got to go home before I go to work,' Bilbo said lightly. 'I can't very well go like this, can I?'

Thorin grinned. 'I love you, Bilbo.'

Bilbo smiled and leant down to kiss Thorin, a long, gentle kiss and Thorin smiled when they broke apart.

Bilbo pulled on his shirt. 'I'll see you later.'

'You won't stay for breakfast?'

'I really can't. I'd love to but... Will you say goodbye to the boys and Dís for me?'

'Of course.' Thorin sat up to kiss him again, before smiling. 'Now hurry home, before I pull you back into bed.'

Bilbo grinned and left the room, letting himself out of the house and only stopping to calm himself when he was around the corner. He doubted he'd be seeing Dís and Fíli and Kíli again, if he did what he needed to today.

:::

At work he was jittery and nervous, but he worked faster than he usually did and got a large portion of his work load done by lunchtime. Bofur looked at him in worry when he refused any lunch.

'Bilbo, what's wrong?' he asked gently.

'I'm doing it today. I'm ending it. He deserves better than me - someone who's never been in a meaningful relationship for more than a week and gets off on having a new partner every night. He deserves more than that.' The thought hurt him. He thought he could have been perfectly happy with Thorin, but when so much of their relationship was based on a lie it would be an illusion, and even the best illusions fade. Better he make it a clean break for both of them.

Bofur nodded and forced him to eat at least half his sandwich. 'You'll be glad of it later.'

The rest of the day flew by fast and suddenly it was four o'clock and nearing end of hours. He'd done most of his work and he was so jittery he couldn't sit still, so he got up and pulled his jacket on. He'd told Nori of what he was going to do and his two friends wished him luck as he left, although the words made him sick. His stomach was churning so badly he thought he might _be_ sick, but it was nothing compared to when he came in sight of Thorin's work and he couldn't breathe, his gut constricting so tightly that his lungs seemed to stop working.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he put on his serene smile and stepped into the building, his heart racing fast as he made himself breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I hope you liked seeing Bilbo begin to change, but... next chapter, stuff will go down.... O.O


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CHAPTER WARNINGS:** In this chapter there's a reference to a possible rape/non-con right at the end but nothing _actually_ happens - the character involved is rescued before anything can (I've marked that section with asterisks * just to be on the safe side) but it might be a little uncomfortable. Also Azog is just really creepy so, uhm, yeah. I'm sorry if that makes anyone uncomfortable. And there's a bit of alcohol misuse too, but nothing that bad. Otherwise it's all fine. (Except for the angst...)
> 
> Thank you all _so_ very much for all your kudos, bookmarks and especially your comments! I know Bilbo is certainly not an easy character to like but I hope in this chapter, you'll feel sympathy for him at least! :3

_PART 3_

_“And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.”_

_― George Gordon Byron_

 

When Thorin's phone rang to say that Bilbo was down at the front desk, he told the receptionist to tell him to come on up as his heart gave a little leap. He was so love-sick it must be awful for others to watch, but Bilbo just made him so happy. Thorin hoped he was feeling better; he'd been so quiet yesterday and he hadn't missed the desperation with which Bilbo had seemed to cling to him as they made love.

But Bilbo looked pale when he arrived, even if he was smiling, and that smile looked brittle. Alarmed, Thorin stood to pull him into his arms as he shut the office door behind him.

'Bilbo, my love, what's wrong?' he pressed little kisses to Bilbo's hairline as he spoke, holding him close. Bilbo didn't melt into the hug as he usually did and he said nothing, and with a terrible sense of dread Thorin released him. He felt physically sick. 'Bilbo?' He was alarmed by how hoarse his own voice sounded, but what was worse was the way Bilbo's eyes filled with tears. 'Bilbo, tell me what's wrong!' he demanded, fear making his voice shake.

Bilbo looked at him, then at the floor, then back at him, a beseeching look in his eyes and Thorin felt confusion and an awful certainty swirling in his gut. Bilbo was going to break up with him.

'Thorin...' Bilbo took a shaky breath and spoke again, this time a little stronger. 'Thorin, we can't do this anymore.'

Thorin could only stare at him.

'I can't do this anymore, I can't-'

'Have I done something? Is it the boys?' Thorin asked, his voice hollow. 'I'm sorry, Bilbo. I'll make it up to you-'

'No, Thorin,' Bilbo's voice was suddenly sharp. 'As cliché, as awful as it sounds...it's _not you,_ Thorin. It's me, it's what _I've_ done...'

'You haven't-' Thorin tried to interject - his Bilbo was perfect, he'd done nothing - but Bilbo cut him off.

'Don't,' he said desperately. 'Please, just listen, and then you can hate me.'

'I couldn't hate you,' Thorin said stiffly, trying not to let his pain show on his face. Two weeks, that was all they'd had together and it was already over. But when Bilbo looked at him desperately he nodded.

Bilbo took a deep breath, closed his eyes and spoke, and Thorin knew pain again.

'I'm a fake. I only went out with you for a bet, to see if I could get you into bed so I could write about it for the magazine I work for and win a free drinks. I swear, Thorin, at first none of it was true, it was a lie; only the desire was real but now it _is,_ it _is_ true and I love you, so much it hurts, but I-'

Thorin could hear nothing over the roaring in his ears, the pounding of blood and grief and betrayal coursing through his veins until it was all he could hear.

'Get out.'

 _I went out with you for a bet. For a bet. A bet._ He heard the words that came after but no more understood them than he could fly to the moon.

Bilbo had frozen at the sound of his voice, looking at him with those eyes - _liar's eyes._ Everything he thought he'd seen in them was a lie, an illusion. Bilbo didn't love him, had never truly loved him.

'Thorin, I -'

'Get out,' he growled again, his hand curling up into a ball as he tried to keep his emotion in check.

'The boys - Frodo -'

'You stay away from them,' Thorin said harshly, both fists shaking with the intensity of his anger. 'You and your family of liars, you all stay away from me and mine. Don't go near them. Ever again.' Bilbo looked as if he'd been slapped, his eyes wide, and it made Thorin's heart ache. 'Now get out!' he shouted, his voice too loud and bouncing strangely off the walls of his office.

Bilbo looked at him for a second longer, bit his lip and turned tail and ran. Thorin watched him disappear around the corner and turned around sharply, staring out of the large window as his shoulders shook with suppressed emotion. He stared down at the ground, blood still roaring loud and thunderously in his ears, and he saw a head of barley curls flee from the building entrance, scurrying off, away.

 _Good. Run and hide somewhere; somewhere you can't touch me or my family._ His heart was aching, the pain so strong it was as if it was being pounded by a thousand hammers, a hundred thousand chisels chipping away at it to break it to pieces.

'Thorin?' Dwalin's voice came from behind him, concerned. 'I just saw Bilbo-'

Thorin whirled around and stormed towards the door, where even Dwalin started at the look on his face. He pushed past Dwalin, heading for the stairs down. He heard Dwalin calling him but the words were lost in the pounding roar in his head.

He took the stairs two at a time, Bilbo's words thumping in time with his steps.

_Fake. Bet. Lie. Fake. Bet. Lie. Fake._

Even when he was outside the building the words crowded his mind and he started walking, trying to ignore them, to lessen the thumping of his head, his heart, but they just grew louder, sharper, more painful.

_Fake. Bet. Lie. I slept with you for a bet._

He should have known; a dependent family and too much emotional baggage put most people off an actual relationship with him.

_Fake. Bet. Lie. Only the desire was real._

His body. He'd only wanted his body.

_Fake. Bet. Lie._

He didn't know where he was, how he'd got here, his feet walking without input from his mind and he'd ended up somewhere he didn't know. It was a seedy part of town, the buildings small and cramped and some rather dilapidated but he stopped to look around, the other passers-by giving him a wide berth.

And suddenly the pounding stopped, the voices went quiet. His breathing returned to its normal pace. He stepped towards a building, warm light spilling out of the windows and he could see comfy, if worn, leather furnishings in there. The sign above read _The Arkenstone._

Every instinct was telling him to turn and run, to avoid this place; but then, his instincts had made him fall for Bilbo. He ignored them.

He pushed open the door, sudden noise and laughter and smells assaulting him. His stomach curdled with fear but the man at the bar waved cheerily and greeted Thorin. Letting the door shut behind him Thorin stepped inside, the silence in his head welcome. His heart didn't hurt. He took a seat on one of the barstools and let the barman pour him a drink. As he accepted the cold glass, he saw crescent marks on his palms where he'd fisted his hands so tightly he’d drawn blood. He looked at them with detachment.

Hands shaking ever so slightly, he lifted the glass to his lips and drank. He drank it all; it was bitter and sharp and he hated the taste but the burn it brought to his throat took his mind off his heart and he could pretend the tears that pricked his eyes were for no other reason than the beer.

He thought of his brother Frerin, as he had been before, not the body he'd had to identify.

He thought of his father, dandling his newborn grandson on his lap.

 _Forgive me,_ he thought at them, as he ordered another pint.

:::

One became two became three became four, and Thorin knew was that if he let his glass become empty, the thoughts would come back. So he kept his glass full of frothy amber liquid, some mild and some so strong he coughed it back up. He nearly cried when he was given a glass of beer the same colour as Bilbo's curls.

As the world grew fuzzy around him he stopped noticing little things, such as the time and the fact his phone would not stop ringing. He'd ignored it the first couple of times, seeing Dwalin's name come up making him stubborn and Dís' making him ashamed. So he ignored them as it grew later and his world became a sea of blurry warm lights and cold glasses in his hand.

Bilbo had slept with him for some free drinks. He'd wormed his way into his heart and made him forget his promise to himself, and now returned his heart bleeding and empty all for some drinks. _I hope he chokes on them._

Nursing his beer - he'd lost count of what number it was - and thoroughly drunk, Thorin couldn't stop the thoughts as they returned with a vengeance. But these ones mocked him with memories of Bilbo, of how he looked when he smiled, looking up at him, waking up beside him, how gentle their lovemaking had been that last time.

Someone had started calling something behind him but he couldn't hear, and the last thought made him bitterly angry and he knocked his glass over, pushing it away as he wished he had Bilbo, keeping him far away and far from his heart. The spilt beer started dripping onto his trousers and he blinked, his head clearing all of a sudden and he began to tremble.

_Where was he, why was he here, what had he done?_

He started a garbled apology to the bar man but then a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he whirled around, nearly toppling over, only to find Dwalin. He sagged in relief, until he noticed his cousin's murderous expression.

'Go and wait outside,' was all he said and Thorin did so, too shamefaced to put up any protest at all. He stumbled to the door, unsteady on his feet, as Dwalin paid his bill. He felt sick and the world was spinning and he couldn't stop trembling.

_What have I done, what have I done, what have I done?_

Why had he come to a pub? Why had he drunk alcohol, and so much of it?

_Fake. Bet. Lie._

He was just about ready to collapse when Dwalin appeared and grabbed him, holding him up.

'Dís is going to kill you when you get home,' he said harshly, 'but I might just save her the trouble.'

Dís... Fíli and Kíli... They couldn't see him like this. He turned to Dwalin in a panic. 'Please, Dwalin, don't take me home. Not like this, please.' His tongue felt huge in his mouth and he heard himself slurring, his gut churning at the shame of it. He couldn't face his nephews or sister like this.

Dwalin snorted. 'What d'you think I am, stupid? The boys don't deserve to see you roaring drunk an' stinkin' like an alehouse. I'm taking you back to my place.'

Thorin could say nothing, just held on to Dwalin as if his life depended on it and made no effort to stop the tears that flowed freely down his face. When Dwalin got him into a bed back at his flat Thorin couldn't bear to see the condemnation on his face so he hid his own in the pillows, shame and hurt and pain lacing the tears that soaked the pillow. And when he ran out of tears they tainted each shaking breath until he fell asleep.

 :::

His head was in agony when he woke up, and he sat up so fast the world seemed to spin and he only just managed to keep what little was in his stomach down. He groaned, clutching at his head as he desperately tried not to think about last night.

A noise at the door made him look up and he saw Dwalin standing there, looking at him strangely. 'How do you feel?'

Thorin scowled. He had a pounding headache, sticky clothes and a broken heart, and Dwalin asked him _how he felt?_

He said nothing, and Dwalin sighed. 'Alright. I'll get you some breakfast ready while you wash and clean yourself up. I've left a bath and some clean clothes in the bathroom.'

Thorin nodded, which sent his head reeling, and managed to stand up on his own. He felt empty, but not just of food. Of everything. The bath was nice, warm but not hot and it washed the sticky beer off his skin from where his drink had spilt. He couldn't believe he'd really done what he'd done last night and the thought made him ill. He scrubbed himself down, turning his skin bright pink he scrubbed so hard, as if he could rid himself of his shame that way. It didn't work.

He dressed carefully in Dwalin's spare clothes, movements slow so he didn't make himself sick and end up throwing up down the toilet. Gingerly he made his way downstairs, where Dwalin had made him a plate of plain toast and a poached egg. Bland food, boring food. He ate the toast, chewing slowly, although he left the egg, his stomach deciding it didn't want to risk it. Dwalin watched him in a way that Thorin may have found unnerving when they were youngsters but now was more reassuring.

'Will you tell me why you went out like that?' Dwalin asked softly.

Thorin considered refusing, but it gnawed at him and maybe by telling someone it would make it hurt less. He still couldn't believe it had happened.

'Bilbo.' His voice cracked on the name. 'He...'

'I saw him come and see you and the next minute he was running out of your office like a cat from water. What happened?'

'He told me...' Thorin looked at his toast. 'It was all a lie. Everything. It was for a bet, he said, that he could get me to sleep with him. And I did, so he won his bet and broke it off with me. I took it...badly,' Thorin said and expected some witty remark from Dwalin about quite how badly he'd taken it, but Dwalin said nothing and his face was grim when Thorin looked at him.

'The lying bastard,' he growled. 'He told me he _loved_ you; that he would never hurt you, and now look at you.' Dwalin's eyes were glinting like crystals in his anger. 'I'll kill him. I told him I'd hurt him if he hurt you-'

'Don't,' Thorin said sharply. 'What else was he supposed to say? I forced his hand into meeting you, he couldn't very well tell you he was planning on dumping me as soon as he'd got his pleasure, could he?' Thorin set his toast back down, appetite forgotten and headache returning as unwanted memories of Bilbo assaulted him. 'The only thing you can do for me, Dwalin, is _never_ say his name again.'

* * *

Bilbo was a mess. He wanted to sob, he wanted to shout and scream, he wanted to go back and find Thorin, beg him to understand-

But he didn't. He didn't do any of these things, though his eyes were blinded by tears and he tripped more than once, nearly knocking into people or getting run over. Instead he did what he usually did - found a pub and ordered a drink. And another one. Just something to take the edge of his pain off. And when a good-looking fair-haired man with soft features and a large smile, the complete opposite of Thorin, offered to buy him a drink, he let him. He thought he could forget Thorin in other people, but the passionless sex just taunted him as a poor attempt at what he and Thorin had had, and he dressed and left as soon as they were done. He couldn't bear to sleep in his bedroom so he slept on the sofa where he collapsed, the cushion beneath his head soaked with tears when he woke the next day.

Holeing himself up and ignoring his friends' texts and calls, he moped around the whole of the next day, until he dressed himself nicely and again went out in search of alcohol and people to drown his sorrow in. This time he ended up with a pretty brunette girl, but that attempt went no better than the previous day's and again he cried himself to sleep on his sofa.

Sunday he spent reading all Thorin's texts before deleting them, each and every one, and explaining to Frodo that he couldn't see Fíli and Kíli again, just as his shoulder was getting better. Frodo's little face fell and Bilbo felt more guilt consume him. That was his fault too. And as night fell he found himself in a posh cocktail club with an older man with dark hair and blue eyes, but he was tall and slender where Thorin had been broad and strong, and the comparisons wouldn't stop reminding him of what he'd lost, how this man sounded compared to Thorin, the way Thorin had been ticklish on his sides...

When Monday came around he had over thirty missed calls from his friends, all ignored, and they didn't hesitate to yell at him.

'What are you _doing_ to yourself, Bilbo?' Nori had cried when he'd seen him walk into the office. 'You look like _hell._ Why didn't you _call_ us?'

Bilbo only shrugged and got on with his work, feeling like shit and looking every bit as bad. It was nothing to how he felt as he wrote up his Ring-Winner article on Thorin, saying nothing of the feelings he'd had, of the happiness and love he'd felt and the pain it caused him to write this. He wondered if Dís read the magazine; if she'd recognise the story, changed as the names were, and show Thorin. She probably hated his guts as much as Thorin did, although Bilbo was fairly certain no one hated himself as much as he did.

When he made to join the others at the pub they refused, taking him home instead so he had to face the memories, rather than blot them out in a drunken stupor.

When they tried it again the next day, Bilbo protested and went out just to spite them. He needed to _forget,_ couldn't they see that? They watched him with wary eyes as he got steadily more drunk until finally they brought him home, Bofur helping him vomit into the toilet as Nori got him into his pyjamas and helped him to bed. They stayed with him through the night, his two friends; when Bilbo woke feeling half dead in the small hours of the morning, he saw them together on the sofa, curled up as he and Thorin once had. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over, trying to forget the image. Would nothing stop reminding him?

For a week, Bilbo went to no clubs and no drop of alcohol passed his lips, for all the good it did him. Every night he was woken by memories and his heart ached, but he learnt to hide how hurt he was from his friends. They never said anything but Bilbo knew they were glad he'd stopped.

But he needed a new mark to lure and write about, so the next weekend, three weeks after the magnificent fallout with Thorin, Bilbo made his way to a pub. He had a soft drink, determined only to pick someone up and not lose his wits to alcohol. He felt eyes on him and after a while the owner of those eyes made his way over to him.

He was a tall man, incredibly broad shouldered and with scars littering his face and what Bilbo could see of his pale forearms, but beneath them he had a fine bone structure and Bilbo knew he was once attractive, if not classically handsome. His eyes raked over Bilbo without reservation and Bilbo sensed the desire in those dark eyes and hot stare.

'You're a pretty one to be out alone,' the man said in a low, gravelly voice. He came to stand close by Bilbo, which made his stomach flutter, although he wasn't certain if it was a good or a bad thing.

'Maybe I'm not alone,' he countered.

'Anyone who leaves you unattended for even a minute is a fool,' the man said, his gaze never leaving Bilbo. 'I should carry you off myself to teach your very lucky partner a lesson.' He shifted a little closer and leaned down to whisper in Bilbo's ear. 'I could, you know, seeing as you're so little. Do you think I'm too big for you?'

His words, baited as they were, succeeding in provoking Bilbo to recklessness. 'Depends if you're as big as you think you are. I've taken men as big as you down a peg or two before.'

The man only smiled; a slow, appreciative grin as he looked at Bilbo with those hot, dark eyes. 'Azog,' he said, holding his hand out to Bilbo. His hand was so big it could hold both of Bilbo's easily.

'Bilbo,' he took the proffered hand, and not half an hour later he was being led into a hotel room and practically devoured by Azog's kisses.

'You're sweet,' the man growled. 'Like a little bird. Sing for me, Bilbo.' Bilbo responded with something not very sweet at all and had Azog groaning into Bilbo's neck.

Afterwards, sated and ever so slightly sore, Bilbo realised he hadn't thought of Thorin once, and the place inside of him that usually felt so hollow didn't feel so painful. He looked at Azog, the scarred giant of a man. He wasn't holding him, like Thorin had done, but he hadn't thrown him out. Maybe he was the key to getting over Thorin.

For the first time since Thorin, Bilbo fell asleep next to someone with something akin to hope in his heart. He was woken by lips travelling over his body and Azog's voice, even deeper with sleep and sex, whispering.

'My little bird didn't fly away,' he sounded amused. Bilbo woke up properly then. 'Will you sing for me today, I wonder?'

'Perhaps I will, if you play me a pretty tune,' Bilbo grinned, and Azog played him like a harp, leaving him breathless. Bilbo thought he knew all there was to know, but Azog showed him how little that really was.

When they were finished again they cleaned up and got dressed and before they left Azog pressed a piece of paper into Bilbo's hand. 'Call me, if you ever need some new songs to sing. I know plenty of tunes.'

Bilbo grinned and accepted the number. 'What makes you so sure that I will?'

Azog didn't answer, just left him with a searing kiss that was hot enough to burn before turning and leaving. Bilbo glanced again at the number in his hand and added it to his phone before leaving the hotel and making his way home.

To relieve his friends' fears he rang them when he got home and told them all about Azog, not mentioning Thorin once and, following his cue, neither did they. Bilbo had a dreamless sleep that night and woke feeling better than he had in nearly a month.

He did nothing about Azog for a couple of days, determining how he felt about it all. But when the dreams of Thorin began to come back, and with them the heartache, he called Azog. The man sounded pleased that Bilbo had called him and Bilbo arranged to meet him the next day at the same club.

That night, he dreamt of Thorin - of a Thorin reduced to drowning his sorrows in a glass, then another and another. Bilbo tried to call out to him but the louder he cried the angrier Thorin became until eventually he pushed him away and stormed off; and no matter how hard he tried Bilbo couldn't follow him. He woke with a start, shuddering; he'd seen Thorin's face, unshaven, unkempt and haggard, and it was all his fault.

He noticed he was trembling and angrily he punched his pillow. _It's not my fault, it's just a dream, it's not even real!_ He wanted to scream out his frustration, muffling his anger in the pillows, because _why couldn't he forget?_ Why could his brain or his heart or whichever traitorous part of him it was causing the dreams not just let him forget? He still hurt too, even though he'd brought it upon himself.

He was still shaken by the dream all day at work and by the time he met up with Azog; in an attempt to drown out the memory of it he threw himself into their touches and kisses and what they inevitably led to, losing himself in the feel of scarred skin on smooth and the teasing whispers Azog would sometimes whisper laughingly in his ear.

It wasn't making love, that much was for certain. Whatever he'd felt for Thorin, he certainly didn't love Azog, but the man let him forget and that was all Bilbo needed. He dreaded going back home, knowing the empty flat would remind him if the way it had rung with Thorin's laughter, the way he had seemed to fill the space.

Attempting to escape it all, Bilbo met Azog more and more often and was increasingly distant with Bofur and Nori. They noticed the way he wouldn't talk to them for hours on end or be deliberately short or evasive with them, and it made Bofur worried.

* * *

'He barely talks to us any more, Nori,' he said as he sat with Nori, curled up on his sofa with his head on Nori's shoulder. 'He goes off on his own and he won't tell us where. I'm worried.'

'He's probably fine,' Nori said. 'He just needs space.'

'Nori Rison, we've given him space enough and you know it. Something's not right.'

 Nori calmed him by carding his fingers through his hair. 'Alright, my love,' he said, pressing a soft kiss to Bofur's neck, 'we'll do something about it tomorrow.'

* * *

 

The next morning, Bilbo had stopped off at a coffee shop on his way to work when he saw something that threw his sense of calm into disarray. Just as he thought he was finally forgetting, finally _over_ Thorin, he saw him that morning. He cursed fate bitterly.

He collected his coffee cup and made for the door, but froze when he saw who stood there.

Thorin stood in the doorway, in casual clothes despite it being a work day and his beard grown in, with a nephew clutching a hand each. Bilbo was shocked at how gaunt he looked, so pale underneath that black beard and the dark shadows under his eyes. His hair was longer and unkempt, falling messily down into his eyes and over his ears; a far cry from the sharp, pristine suited man Bilbo had first met. All his fault, he supposed; it scared him how much this Thorin resembled the tired, haggard man in his dream. It scared him all the more knowing that his actions had caused that.

Thorin's eyes met Bilbo's, shock clear as he recognised him, before pain clouded them and his gaze turned sharp. He said something to the boys and turned and left, ignoring Bilbo completely and leaving him there, heart racing and blood roaring in his ears. It was only what he deserved, he knew, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Realising he was standing there like a fool, Bilbo hurried out of the shop to work, his heart still hammering. If just seeing Thorin affected him so...

He pulled out his phone and rang Azog. 'Can I meet you tonight?' he asked, trying not to sound too desperate. 'Please?'

'I know somewhere good to go,' Azog said. 'I'll meet you there.' He gave Bilbo an address and said, 'We'll see if my little bird grows wings,' just before hanging up. More than a little confused by the last sentence but still more shaken by the run in with Thorin, he didn't think too much on it, instead trying to calm his jittery nerves to get through the day.

Nori asked him what was up and when Bilbo didn't reply he and Bofur crowded him, not letting him escape them.

'Bilbo,' Nori said and his tone brooked no argument. 'What are you doing?'

'I'd be working if you two left me alone,' he muttered.

'Bilbo!' Bofur looked hurt and Bilbo felt a brief pang of regret - he seemed to be hurting a lot of people these days - but he shrugged it off. 'We mean what are you doing to yourself? You never eat, you go off on your own and you don't talk to us-'

'What am I doing right now?' he bit out, irrationally angry. 'Why is it I go off by myself? Because you two stopped me from going with you-'

'You were making yourself _ill,_ Bilbo!' Bofur said heatedly. 'You didn't see yourself, but we did and we were scared for you.'

'Well don't be,' Bilbo said fiercely. 'I can look after myself while you two eat each other's faces. I'm meeting Azog tonight.'

'Bilbo, you're not being fair,' Nori said darkly.

'Am I not?' he asked sharply, glaring at Nori. 'Well _life_ isn't fair, Nori, so _get over it.'_

Nori inhaled sharply and his look was scathing. 'You know what? I don't care. You can sleep with whoever you want and I won't care. Because you're not the Bilbo I know.'

'That Bilbo died when he told Thorin what a cheating bastard he was,' Bilbo shot back. 'And whose fault was that?'

'Well then he can stay dead.' Nori stormed to his feet and stalked off, ignoring Bofur's pleas for him to calm down.

'Bilbo, please!' Bofur turned to him and Bilbo could see how distressed he was.

'I...' he tried to talk but found he couldn't, the lump in his throat growing suddenly and cutting off his voice. 'I'm...'

Bofur just looked at him and got to his feet slowly, such a look of despair on his face that Bilbo felt so very guilty. But he could feel Nori's black glare on him and he returned it, his mood utterly black.

He refused to talk to them for the rest of the day. Couldn't they see that Azog made him happy? Azog let him forget and forgetting let him heal, and after the encounter with Thorin he needed their _support,_ not them being jealous that he'd found solace elsewhere. Especially when it was their fault he'd even got involved with Thorin in the first place.

The day seemed to drag on interminably without his friends to laugh with, and more than once Bilbo had to go to the bathroom to hide the angry tears he couldn't stop from falling. He didn't want to cry, not for them, not for Thorin, but here he was wiping his eyes in a toilet cubicle. He grit his teeth and curled his fists as he tried to fight the prickling of his eyes.

Ever so slowly but eventually it arrived, end of hours and time for Bilbo to head for the place to meet Azog. He got a taxi and got out to what appeared to be a dingy part of town, the buildings brightly lit with neon signs which didn't hide the shabbiness of the construction. He didn't have too long to look around though, as Azog got out of a car a couple of spaces down the road and waved him over, leading him to a set of stairs leading to an underground room. Loud music sounded from it, and a sickly sweet smell which made Bilbo pause, but Azog was looking at him expectantly so he let himself be led down the stairs, heart racing and stomach twisting uncomfortably as he followed Azog into the dark, smoky confines of the so-called Club Gundabad.

* * *

When Thorin dropped the milk for the third time that week Dís knew there was a problem. It had been three weeks since Thorin hadn't come home, and she'd gone frantic with worry as he didn't pick up the phone until Dwalin had called her. Thorin hadn't been able to look her in the eye when he got home, his shame so deeply ingrained in his face that all her harsh words had deserted her and she'd only been able to hold him; and hold him and hold him until he knew he was forgiven and could bring himself to look at her.

He wasn't sleeping, that much she knew, and he ate less. She watched as he let his hair and beard grow longer, starting to look straggly, and more than once she would happily have taken the kitchen scissors out and lopped it off, including the beard.

Since that morning that he'd come home, Thorin had only left the house to go to work and had taken this week off, taking Fíli and Kíli out in the morning as they had a day off school. But he'd come home jittery and nervous and while she hadn't managed to worm it out of him she knew he'd seen Bilbo.

It had broken Dís' heart when she found out about Bilbo's betrayal, and no small amount of guilt had flowed through her. She had encouraged him to let his guard down, to accept Bilbo, and the whole time she'd been urging him to have his heart broken. She'd felt especially ill when her coffee morning friend lent her another magazine and she found that awful column written by _Ring-Winner_ again and recognised the story as an altered version of what had happened between Thorin and Bilbo. So Bilbo was Ring-Winner. She'd shut the magazine quickly after that and returned it to the friend, not telling Thorin what she knew; what Thorin didn't know couldn't hurt him.

It had hurt seeing Fíli and Kíli adjust to their brittle new uncle, before so robust and strong now just as likely to fall silent in his sorrow as to play with them. When Kíli had asked where "Uncle Bilbo" was, Thorin had removed himself from the room and it had been left to Dís to explain very gently that Bilbo wasn't coming back, not because he didn't love the boys but because he’d had to leave.

Sometimes she would happily have killed Bilbo herself for the pain he'd caused her brother; her rock of a brother crumbling before her eyes as he tried to figure out how to purge the treachery of his heart. But she knew that anything bad that happened to Bilbo would inevitably hurt Thorin, the heart's fickle loyalty to the one who'd broken it impossible to reconcile and killing Bilbo would only have lost her her one remaining brother.

More than that, too; much as she wanted to believe that Bilbo had been cruel and evil and Thorin was better off without him, there was a small part of her that knew that Bilbo had loved Thorin. They always said that eyes were windows to the soul; if Bilbo had been purely acting they would have been shuttered and barred, giving nothing away, but she'd _seen_ emotion in them. Laughter and _love._ She believed that Bilbo had truly loved her brother, which meant that this must hurt him as much as it did Thorin. And at least he'd confessed, rather than letting him find out by other means; had he done that, Dís wasn't sure if she'd have been able to forgive him.

But when Thorin dropped the milk carton for the third time that week she lost it.

' _Speak to him,_ Thorin!' she hissed as he gathered cloths to wipe it up.

Thorin had set his jaw firmly. 'I won't. I don't want to see him ever again.'

'Thorin, I can't go on like this. You're like a time bomb, just waiting to go off and I can't deal with constantly walking on eggshells around you. Just ring him, please,' Dís had begged. 'Meet somewhere public, with me or Dwalin or the boys with you, and just talk this through.'

'I don't need to talk it through with him, Dís,' Thorin said sharply. He'd let his beard grow, partly to try and hide the way his cheekbones were more prominent – a result of his reduced appetite. 'I know what he said.'

'Thorin, I saw him when he was here and I honestly can't believe it was _all_ a lie. I know enough of human nature to know love, Thorin, and I know I saw it in his eyes as he looked at you.'

'Love for himself, most probably,' he muttered. He sighed. 'He's a liar, Dís. He only wanted me to jump into bed with him so he could get a tumble and win a bet. That was all I was to him. A challenge to overcome so he could win some free drinks.' The look on his face was murderous and Dís wondered what Thorin would do to Bilbo if he turned up there.

Giving up, she left him clearing the milk and went to find her sons, trying to impart to them the life lesson that talking things through was the best way to solve things, not sulking like their uncle was wont to do.

Thorin mentally screamed in frustration and anger. Why could his heart not move on? Why couldn't it see that he _needed_ to move on? It had been nearly a month and every thought of Bilbo still sliced like a knife, every memory hammered at his heart. But he was afraid of what he'd do if he were to meet him, or even just hear his voice; he'd never hurt him, but instead he feared that he'd take him back.

Growling in frustration he put the milk-sodden cloths out for washing and went for a walk in the garden to clear his head.

* * *

Bofur and Nori followed Bilbo that evening, more and more worried by his increasing weight loss and despondency. Something wasn't right with Bilbo, and they'd be sorry excuses of friends if they didn't try to help.

So they slipped into Nori's car and followed the taxi Bilbo hailed, increasingly uneasy as they got to the dingier, seedy part of town. They saw Bilbo get out and head to a huge scarred man - Azog, they assumed - and watched as he led Bilbo down a flight of stairs.

Nori saw the name of the club and immediately blanched, Bofur feeling ill with worry when he saw.

'Bofur, we have to get Bilbo out of there,' Nori whispered. 'Some of my - my friends work around here and they all know that you steer clear of Gundabad. No one goes there if they can help it, and if they _can't_ help it, they're in real trouble. Even the police aren't much help.' His face was grey.

'What do we do?' Bofur was terrified; if something could scare Nori so much then it was bad indeed.

'I don't know. We can't get him by ourselves, and I don't know anyone who would willingly come within a mile of the place.' Nori chewed his lip as he racked his brains.

'We... We could get Thorin,' Bofur suggested quietly. 'Bilbo was sure he loved him, and he's the only one I can think of who might help.'

Nori looked at him and breathed out softly. 'Yes. Yes,' he said again, more forcefully. And he pulled out, heading for Thorin's house at a speed probably only just on this side of legal. But the police couldn't help and Thorin was the only one who could, and they were determined not to lose their friend.

* * *

The boys were in bed and Thorin had just made coffee for himself and Dís when he heard tyres screeching on the front drive and a minute later hammering on the door. Unnerved, he went to the door and opened it with the safety chain.

'Who's there?' he asked, the faces unclear in the darkness. But one stepped into the light and he recognised the man, although it had been a very long time since he'd seen him.

'Hello, Thorin. Long-time no see.'

'Nori.' Thorin unlatched the door and opened it wide. 'Last I heard you were the bane of your brother's life playing petty thieves at the market. What do you want?'

Nori looked at him and his eyes were wide. 'It's Bilbo,' he said without preamble.

Thorin sucked in a breath.

'I've no idea who you're talking about.' He made to close the door but Nori stuck his foot in the gap, holding it open. The other man's face became clear as he stepped closer; Thorin didn't recognise him but he wore a funny hat.

'You do, Thorin, because it was me who put him up to it - I'm the one who made the bet with him. Old Rock-heart, remember?'

Thorin froze. 'You?' he asked hollowly. He yanked the door back open and grabbed Nori by the collar, slamming him against the wall. The other man cried out but Thorin ignored him. 'I could kill you for what you've caused,' he said, all his anger pouring out of him. 'My own kin.' He spat on the drive. 'That's right about what kin matters to you, isn't it, Nori?'

'Please, Thorin,' Nori said calmly. 'I've done you wrong, I know, but we need your help. If you had any regard at all for Bilbo, help us.'

'Why should I?' Nori's face was turning red from where his air pipe was being constricted.

'Because Azog's got him, at Club Gundabad.'

'Azog?'

'Doesn't matter who he is. Even you know of Gundabad.'

He held him there for a moment longer before he let Nori go; he dropped to the floor, gasping in great lungfuls of air as Thorin breathed heavily.

The hatted man rushed to Nori's side and helped him up. He looked up at Thorin. 'Bilbo loves you, you know.'

Thorin snorted. 'He can keep his _love._ I know what little value it holds.'

He glanced at Nori, still breathing heavily although now standing up. 'Wait for me in the car and ring your brother. Get him to meet us there.'

He stalked back inside to say goodbye to Dís and to tell her not to worry, although he himself wasn't certain about what was going to happen.

As Nori rang Dori, Bofur high-tailing the car downtown to the club, he rang Dwalin. He could only hope they got there in time; he _would_ get Bilbo back.

* * *

The underground room was dim and full of that sweet-smelling smoke. Azog led Bilbo to a booth at the back of the room, where a few grim-faced, silent men, all huge, sat around a poker board, a large pile of notes in the middle. They were all scarred, though none quite as badly as Azog.

Azog ushered Bilbo in to a seat and ordered them both drinks, but Bilbo's stomach was churning unpleasantly. He didn't want to be here in this dingy room, with these scarred, huge, drug-smoking men pretending to drink the cocktail Azog had got him.

Time seemed to stand still in that place; he could have been sat there for ten minutes or ten hours and he wouldn't have known. Azog ignored him, for the most part, laughing with these burly scarred men about things Bilbo didn't and had no wish to understand. All he could think was what a fool he'd been; marvelling at his own idiocy which had brought him here. He should have known - a man didn't get scars like Azog's from honest work, and how could he ever have thought the man charming?

Azog saw him not drinking and pressed the glass to his hand, watching until he'd taken a mouthful. It burned his throat and made his eyes water. He pretended the tears were purely from the burn when in fact he knew they were caused my memories of a different time, a different place, with someone he'd loved and who'd loved him. He just wanted to go home.

 ***** He tried to tell Azog that it was too dark, the music too loud for him, but Azog only said they'd leave later. His hand was too hot and too heavy on Bilbo's back, but he wouldn't move it and when Bilbo tried to move himself out of Azog's grasp the man grabbed his wrist so tightly it left a circlet of bruises. He pressed a hard kiss to Bilbo's jaw, whispering into his ear.

'My little bird can fly free later, but first I want him to sing for us.'

That was when Bilbo knew he was in trouble. Azog's kisses were absent of warmth; there was heat, yes, but no warmth, and his hot heavy hands were moving down Bilbo's body. He began to tremble.

'Is my little bird cold? Shall I warm you?'

Stomach churning as Azog nipped at his neck, leaving a jewel of crimson blood that trickled wetly down his skin, he tried to move away but Azog was strong. *****

Suddenly there was a commotion from outside, loud voices sounding even above the thumping music, and Bilbo would have cried in relief when he recognised one voice in particular had Azog not been there.

Figures appeared in the doorway, Thorin - _Thorin_ \- in front. He recognised Nori and Bofur, and Dwalin too as well as two others he didn't know. Thorin saw him, his expression unreadable, but Bilbo took his chance.

While Azog was still frozen in surprise, Bilbo leapt up and barrelled past him, blindly headed in Thorin's direction. He stumbled as Azog shouted but warm arms caught him, holding him close. He smelt Thorin's unmistakable scent and clutched at him tightly, not letting go even as he shook.

'I came for what belongs to me, and now I'll be going.' That was Thorin, his voice low and harsh.

'He wasn't yours. But take him, I can find other little birds elsewhere. Ones who sing better.'

Bilbo didn't look at Azog, just held tighter to Thorin as he was picked up and carried out, away from Gundabad and Azog. All he knew was that he wouldn't let go of Thorin; he wouldn't lose him a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought! I promise that it gets better - a happy ending is _definitely_ certain!!!


	4. Part IV and Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is it - the last chapter. I know this story has been difficult for some of you to read but I am so, so grateful for every single comment, kudos and bookmark you lovely people have left me. Honestly, thank you so very much! Please enjoy this last chapter. ^_^

 

_PART 4_

_"The human heart is a strange vessel. Love and hatred can exist side by side.”_

_― Scott Westerfeld_

 

Thorin felt ill. 'He's shaking like a leaf. Get him warm.' There was chaos around as the car took them back home, people fussing over Bilbo as he continued to shiver in Thorin's arms. 'Get him to a bed and let him sleep.' Somehow they were home already and someone was helping inside; Bilbo hadn't looked at him the entire journey but his grip on his shoulder was vice-like. Someone tried to take Bilbo from him but he refused, carrying Bilbo himself upstairs to his own room and placing him carefully on the bed.

Bilbo was still quivering and when Thorin made to remove himself from Bilbo's grasp, he thrashed until Thorin held him still and whispered that he was here, he would stay. Bilbo looked at him then, with his wide green eyes, as Thorin tucked the quilt over him warmly.

His voice was small as he spoke, slightly trembling. 'Thorin, I... Sorry for-'

Thorin quieted him. 'Just sleep,' he told him. 'I'll be here.'

Bilbo nodded and closed his eyes, and Thorin was unsure whether to be relieved or not when he stopped shaking. Every time he blinked he saw Bilbo, cowering beneath this _Azog's_ touch and it made him sick.

Bilbo looked so small and vulnerable in his large bed and Thorin cursed himself for bringing him in here, to his own room, where too many memories were already ingrained in the walls. Thorin wanted to hate him, thought he _did_ hate him; but the way he'd trembled as Thorin carried him out of there made Thorin wrap his hands around Bilbo's, his smaller hands fitting so perfectly in his own. He kissed each knuckle gently before releasing his hands and stumbling to the door.

Bofur and Nori had been waiting outside and when Thorin appeared outside they hurried in to replace him at Bilbo's bedside. He smiled grimly; Bilbo would probably prefer to wake to them, not his _mark._

A little voice peeped out from the boys' bedroom. 'Uncle Thorin?' Fíli asked, rubbing sleep from his eye. 'What's going on?'

'It's nothing,' he whispered gently, kneeling down to smooth his nephew's bed-tousled hair. 'Just go back to sleep, baby.' He picked Fíli up and carried him back to his bed, tucking him in tightly. Fíli's eyes were already drooping and Thorin pressed a gentle kiss to his brow. He moved over to Kíli's bed, kissed his brow too and straightened his quilt, smiling at how Kíli had managed to ruck up the bed sheets so.

He couldn't sleep in his own room, Bilbo being there, and he didn't think he could face the others and their pitying looks. Dwalin had brought Glóin with him and he didn't know the full story, and hopefully neither did Dori, but he couldn't bear Dwalin and Dís looking at him like that. So he sat in the chair between his nephew's beds and stayed there, keeping watch over them as he fell asleep.

:::

He woke early, perhaps remembering that the one man he simultaneously hated and wanted to never let go was just next door. Quietly he looked in to his room; Nori and Bofur were still keeping vigil, although Bofur had fallen asleep but Nori was awake, looking as bad as Thorin felt.

Now Thorin saw him in the cold light of day, he was shocked at how tired Bilbo looked even as he slept, how drained. He had dark shadows under his eyes and his lips, which once smiled so readily, were set in a grim line and his brow was furrowed by a frown; the sight made Thorin's heart ache and palms itch to reach out and smooth it away but he kept his hands by his side.

Nori looked up at him, blinking blearily. 'Thank you,' he said hoarsely. 'Thank you, Thorin, for helping us.'

Thorin shrugged. 'Just be thankful we didn't have to fight our way out of there.' He glanced at Bilbo and felt his stomach coil tightly. 'This doesn't change anything,' he said gruffly. 'As soon as he's fit enough, he's leaving.'

Nori looked down and nodded, before returning his gaze to Bilbo. Thorin couldn't bear to stay in there a moment longer so he left, closing the door softly behind him. He went downstairs and found Dís and Dwalin in the kitchen, cups of coffee gently steaming. Dís quickly poured one for him and Thorin accepted it silently.

'You look awful,' Dwalin said candidly. Thorin ignored him.

'Dori and Glóin have gone home,' Dís supplied quietly. ‘Are you alright?’

Thorin set his cup down. 'I appreciate your concern but please, stop. I have nothing to say to him any more. He's going home as soon as he's fit enough. His _friends_ can take him home.'

'Thorin-' Dís started to say but Thorin just shook his head and left. He slumped on the sofa, trying to keep the taunting memories of himself and Bilbo on this sofa at bay.

He punched a cushion angrily. Bilbo had _hurt_ him, he didn't _love_ him, so why was he still being tormented so? He hated this heart break and pining. He wanted to be himself again.

He must have fallen asleep again on the sofa because he found himself waking up, the light in the room much brighter and the sound of his nephews' pleased voices travelling through the house. He could hear Dís chattering away in the kitchen as he made his way upstairs.

He poked his head into the boys' room as he passed to tell them to quieten down, but they weren't in there and he heard Kíli's voice from next door. From his room. His stomach sank.

The door was ajar as he approached and he could see Fíli and Kíli kneeling on the bed next to Bilbo, who'd sat up.

'We missed you, Uncle Bilbo,' Kíli said happily and Thorin saw Bilbo bite his lip.

'I missed you both so much too, boys,' he tucked a stray bit of hair behind Kíli's ear and smiled at Fíli. 'Something...happened, and I had to go. I don't know that I'll...'

Thorin pushed open the door, revealing his presence. Bilbo turned to him and his eyes, a moment before full of what looked to be love, although Thorin didn't trust that it was, immediately were full of fear when he saw him and he blanched.

'Fíli, Kíli, go find your mother. I need to speak to Bilbo.' The boys looked a little uncertain but they did as they were told, reluctantly slipping off the bed and hurrying downstairs. Thorin shut the door behind them and walked over to the bed and the chair he'd sat on the night before. Bilbo was breathing shakily and moved to push the covers off, starting to say something, but Thorin stopped him.

Bilbo bit his lip and said nothing; there was silence for a few interminable moments before Bilbo broke it.

'Thank you,' he said quietly. 'Thank you for saving me.'

'What were you _thinking,_ going to Gundabad with a man like _Azog?'_ was Thorin's answer, spoken a little harshly but he couldn't stop himself. Bilbo had nearly got himself hurt.

'I...' Bilbo looked down at his lap. 'I needed to forget.' His voice was hollow. 'Thorin, I know you hate me-'

'You did break my heart, just as you've done to countless fools before me.' His voice was empty, devoid of anger or hurt. He just felt tired. 'I know what you do. You write those Ring-Winner articles.'

Bilbo just nodded, staring at his hands twined in his lap. Thorin saw the glint of tears forming in his eye and longed to wipe it away, but forced himself to stay still. When Bilbo spoke his breaths were short as he fought to keep the tears back.

'I'm so sorry, and I never meant to hurt you-'

'So what _did_ you mean to do?' he asked fiercely. 'Nori's told me everything, how you'd tell him everything we'd done, how you would get an extra day to get in my bed for each _kiss_ I gave you. Is that truly all they meant to you, Bilbo? All the times we _loved_?' Thorin couldn't stop his voice from shaking with emotion and he grit his teeth.

'No!' Bilbo protested. 'I mean - yes, at first, but then I started to know you and I was scared by it-'

'Stop.' Thorin couldn't bear to hear it, the words tumbling out of Bilbo's mouth a poison - hateful and hurtful but left him craving more. He couldn't; he didn't know how much longer he could set his jaw without grinding his teeth to dust. 'Just stop.'

'Please, Thorin, let me explain-'

'You've explained enough,' Thorin said cuttingly, raising his voice. He stood and let out a shuddering breath, calming his voice. 'I am taking the boys out. When I get back in an hour's time, you will be gone and I won't ever see or hear from you again. Your friends can take you home.'

He turned and strode out, not looking back to see Bilbo's face as he left. The best thing he could do was forget Bilbo Baggins entirely; his lungs struggled to get air in as the thought crossed his mind and he felt for one moment like Kíli, floundering for air when it felt like he was drowning.

* * *

Bilbo sat in shocked silence as he heard the front door close behind Thorin and his nephews. Bilbo hadn't even got to say goodbye to them, no doubt because they assumed he would still be there when they got back.

But he couldn't be. Bilbo wasn't sure what he'd do if Thorin came back and found him still there, looking at him with derision and contempt. He'd hoped... He hadn't thought Thorin would forgive him but he'd hoped he would listen. But he got what he deserved, he supposed. He was a lying, cheating waste of space, and good men like Thorin didn't deserve or waste time on people like Bilbo.

He shakily got to his feet, straightening the covers and making the bed. It was a different sheet set to the one that had been on the bed a month ago when Bilbo had kissed him goodbye with gentle touches, but he could still remember every moment.

Bofur and Nori stood outside and rushed to his side when they saw him, but he brushed them off; much as he appreciated it he couldn't bear the thought of anyone touching him, not after last night. There was only one whose touch might make him forget that, but he no longer belonged with him - if he'd ever belonged there in the first place.

He said goodbye to Dís, unable to look her in the eye after what he'd caused her family; while her eyes glittered hard there was a warmth that made her press a kiss to his cheek before sending him on his way for good.

Bilbo curled up in the back of the car, not looking out of windows or chatting, simply staring at the grains in the leather seat, withdrawn into himself. Bofur and Nori both sent him concerned looks but he didn't notice or didn't care. He felt numb, so much pain that had washed through him leaving him incapable of feeling anything. He'd welcome the pain and shame, if it could take away this emptiness.

When he got home Bofur drew him a bath while Nori fried some eggs; he picked at the food, his stomach feeling the size of a walnut and sickly as well, and he added so much hot to the bath that his skin was cooked pink when he was done. And he felt just as empty as before.

'Bilbo, will you watch television?' Bofur asked gently. 'Read?'

Bilbo shook his head and gave a small smile to his friends. 'I'm sorry I've been so foul to you both recently. Here you are looking after me again, even after I was so horrible. But you can't help me now. I think I'll go to sleep.'

'We're staying with you,' Nori said softly. 'We'll be here.'

'What, in case I decide to off myself? And deny the world my charms? Wouldn’t the world be a dull place then.' His laughter rang hollow. 'I'm not planning on doing anything of the sort,' he reassured them gently. And he turned and stumbled to bed, feeling bone-tired and weary. He tried to summon anger or hate towards Thorin, disdain or derision, but there was only emptiness.

He tried to tell himself that was a good thing; emptiness meant nothing.

But the pain in his chest told him that emptiness only meant he had no heart, held as it was by the man with eyes blue as summer sky, and nothing he could do would get it back.

* * *

The car was gone when they got back from the park and Thorin's heart rate quickened, although he knew not if it was out of fear they were still there or fear Bilbo was gone.

Bilbo was indeed gone, much to the distress of Fíli and Kíli, and it was all Thorin could do to keep tears from forming in his own eyes and he wiped away Kíli's.

_He's a liar,_ he wanted to shout at them, _a liar and a fake and a thief._

But he was also kind, Thorin knew, and cared deeply for his nephew. He was clever and witty and cheerful and made Thorin's heart race -

But he still lied, and the thought made Thorin bitter.

He tried to take his mind off Bilbo, drinking a ridiculous number of coffees that left him jumpy yet exhausted and it was only when he collapsed into bed that he remembered the duvet smelt of Bilbo still. Bilbo and himself, and Thorin couldn't stop himself from indulging in the memories of the few times they had together. When he woke the next morning he felt weak and ashamed, and he set about stripping the bed of the sheets as fast as he could.

Dís said nothing as she watched her brother stuffing his bed sheets into the washing machine with vehemence, a black glower on his face. He looked so much like their father when he frowned, and it was only by a soft kiss on the forehead from his sister that Thorin calmed down slightly.

'Uncle, will you help me and Kee with our Lego?' Fíli asked him and Thorin complied, grateful for the distraction, until Fíli started telling him that the castle they were trying to build was out of one of the stories Bilbo had told them. Thorin almost wished there were some figures that needed sorting or paperwork signing then, so he wouldn't have to hear about Bilbo's wonderful tales.

He was grateful when he went back to work, throwing himself into it and exhausted when he got home, but Dís saw what he was doing right away. On Wednesday she came to him when the boys were in bed and he sat in the living room, staring glumly at the blank television.

She carded her fingers through his hair, a familiar gesture and one which Thorin relaxed into.

'I know what you're doing, Thorin.' Her voice was quiet but firm and Thorin was reminded of their mother.

'What's that?' he asked carelessly, as if it didn't bother him at all - except he'd tensed at the statement.

'You're not going to make this any easier by working yourself to an early grave,' she said. 'Would you want to leave me with only my sons in all the world, my brothers both having left me?'

'You'd still have Dwalin,' Thorin pointed out but Dís punched his arm, leaving him wincing.

'I don't _care_ about Dwalin,' she said angrily. 'I care about _you._ Mahal's sake, Thorin, you really can be so very thick sometimes. You need to talk to Bilbo - yes, _Bilbo -'_ she repeated the name as he flinched away from it. 'So maybe he started off trying to date you because of a bet, but that's no different to how I met Fíli and Kíli's father, is it? Asking me out because of a dare from his friends. And he was a good and kind man.'

'This is different,' Thorin said through gritted teeth.

'How?' Dís demanded.

'He does this to everyone-'

'He falls in love with every single person he sleeps with?' Dís scoffed. 'Thorin, if he had really only wanted to sleep with you he would have left as soon as the deed was done. But he didn't. I saw him the day before he told you and I _know_ what I saw on his face, Thorin.'

'How can you?' Thorin asked angrily. 'You're not him. You don't have a different lover every night of the week.'

'No, I don't,' Dís agreed. 'But I'm a single widowed mother who knows more about love than you ever will if you don't get your arse over there and talk to him.' She could see a vein throbbing in his jaw with the effort of clenching it, and he stood up.

'I'm going to bed,' he announced. 'Goodnight, Dís.'

Dís only sighed after him, despair at her thick-headed and insufferably stubborn brother.

Thorin was silent and moody at breakfast the next morning and even Fíli and Kíli were wary of their uncle, and that meal was a tense affair.

Thorin couldn't stop her words echoing around his head all day, no matter how much he tried to ignore them or get them to go away. They dogged him relentlessly and it was only when Dwalin had to poke him gently awake for the second time at work after last night's sleeplessness, he decided she was right.

He couldn't cope like this for much longer.

And so that evening found him at the barber's, where they cut his hair back to its normal neat short cut and shaved the beard. Even Thorin was alarmed at quite how much sharper his cheekbones were, how pale he looked. But Dís just looked at him appraisingly; he ignored her.

* * *

Bilbo was utterly miserable, living life in what seemed to be a grey haze. Days ran together and minutes lasted hours and he barely heard it when people talked to him. When the deadline for his next Ring-Winner article passed with nothing to show for it, Bilbo having had no mark for a week, Bilbo couldn't even bring himself to care. The column had got him into this problem in the first place and it could go bugger itself for all he cared.

He spent days working in a blur and nights in a cold bed with an empty space where his heart once was. He knew Nori and Bofur were doing what they could to make him feel better, and for them he tried to be happy, he tried so hard; but he couldn't hide how unhappy he was from them.

That Friday, Bofur and Nori took him out for a late lunch and Bilbo revelled in the feel of the afternoon sun on his face after spending most of the week holed up inside.

'I know you're still upset about Thorin, Bilbo,' Nori said quietly as they ate. Bilbo blinked at him, turning his face from where he'd raised it to the sun. He shrugged.

'I brought it upon myself. He deserves better than me anyway.' He didn't tell them how that sent phantom ripples of pain through his ghost heart.

'Bilbo, I can't stand to see you like this. Bofur and I've been talking-'

'Oh, have you,' he said glumly.

'-Yes, and you can do one of two things. Find someone else and just forget about Thorin, or _talk to him.'_

'I'm not going to force myself on him,' Bilbo said vehemently. 'He’s made it clear enough that he doesn't want to see me ever again and that's perfectly reasonable. I won't force him to see me.'

'Then find someone else, Bilbo, please,' Bofur said gently.

The thought filled Bilbo with unimaginable terror. After... After Azog, the thought of strangers' touches turned his stomach and filled him with dread. He couldn't do it; he shook his head quickly. He was always going to remain a bachelor anyway so it wasn't like his plans had really changed; maybe he _had_ hoped, for a little while...

But no.

His phone ringing brought him out of his thoughts and he answered it. It was the girl from the front desk.

'Mr Baggins? There's someone here to see you.'

Bilbo stifled a sigh. 'Tell them I'm busy and can't possibly see them.'

'He's very insistent, Mr Baggins... He says he'll wait.'

'Alright. I won't be long; you can tell him to go up.' He hung up and turned to the others. 'I've got to get back. There's someone waiting to see me.'

Bofur and Nori finished up and joined him as they returned to work. During the walk back Bilbo wiped away any traces of his previous upset and put on his serene and cheerful face as they ascended the lift to the office.

* * *

Thorin's heart was hammering like mad as he waited in the large office by Bilbo's desk. A few of the employees gave him sidelong looks, some interested and some pitying - perhaps Bilbo's other marks had turned up at his work to see him before - but he ignored them.

Instead he found himself studying the items on Bilbo's desk - two picture frames, one with Frodo and his mother and father, and another, older photo of a pretty woman with curly hair the same colour as Bilbo's and a handsome, homely man; papers scattered in neat chaos; a mug that proclaimed him "best uncle". The dregs in it were milky.

Every time the lift doors opened Thorin's heart jumped into his throat but this time it stopped, his breath catching as he saw Bilbo step out. His friends were there and they stayed close by his side. None of them noticed him at first but as they approached Bilbo glanced up - and promptly froze.

Thorin saw his face look stricken before he smoothed it away, but he made no move to come closer. Bofur and Nori looked to see what had affected their friend so much, and they too looked shocked to see him. But his eyes never left Bilbo's and eventually the younger man made it to his desk, his movements stiff.

'Good afternoon, Mr Durin,' he said, as if Thorin were a stranger. 'How can I help you?'

'You can start by calling me Thorin,' Thorin replied. 'We did sleep together, if you remember. I think that more than rules out the need for niceties.'

Bilbo didn't look at him, instead ducking his head. His finger toyed with the smaller picture frame with the old photograph, the colours nearly faded to sepia.

'Alright then,' he whispered. 'How can I help you, Thorin?' His voice came out stronger and he did meet Thorin's eye that time, looking at him defiantly and Thorin felt his heart rate quicken again. He took a breath, keeping himself calm.

'I need to talk to you,' he said, and saw something in Bilbo's eyes for just a moment, a second. Bilbo's eyes were tired, Thorin could see, and his curls had lost some of their lustre.

'Of course, let me get you a chair-'

'In private,' Thorin bit out through clenched teeth. He realised he'd clenched his fists and he made himself relax before he drew blood.

'I...of course,' Bilbo muttered. He moved out from behind his desk and started walking, throwing a cursory glance over his shoulder to make sure Thorin was following. His face gave away nothing, no clue to how he felt; for a moment Thorin wondered if perhaps he didn't care anymore.

Bilbo led him to a flight of stairs, shutting the door behind them.

'Well?' he asked, crossing his arms across his body.

'This is private?' Thorin asked.

'No one uses these stairs,' Bilbo said defensively. 'What did you want to speak to me about?'

Thorin took a deep breath and looked at his hands, where they were twined together in agitation. 'Now I'm here, I don't quite know what to say,' he admitted quietly. Bilbo was staring at the floor, arms still crossed in front of him. When Thorin looked at him he started and met his gaze, but his eyes and face were unreadable.

'I do have work, Thorin, so if you could-'

'Hurry up? I'll do my best,' Thorin said bitterly and gave a humourless laugh. 'Am I such an inconvenience to you?'

Bilbo said nothing, just glared at him with cheeks that had grown pink and Thorin's mind threatened to wander off down a very different path, one he couldn't afford to think of now. He took another breath, heard it shudder as he drew in the air.

'You hurt me, Bilbo. You hurt my nephews, you hurt my sister, and I don't know how I even kept going after you told me. You know I haven't touched alcohol in eight years?' Bilbo nodded. 'The day after you told me, I woke up in Dwalin's spare room, barely able to walk and stinking of the stuff.'

He saw Bilbo's eyes widen before he looked back at the floor.

'Will you not even look at me?' Thorin asked mirthlessly. 'Won't you say something?'

'What do you want me to say, Thorin?' Bilbo replied desperately. 'I've told you I'm sorry and I know you hate me - you have every reason to - but why come here?'

'To talk to you. To ask you if you ever had any regard for me at all or if it was all lies.'

'I've told you already.' Bilbo's voice was small. 'I can say it as many times as you like but you're determined not to hear it.'

Thorin stepped closer and touched a hand to Bilbo's face. The younger man flinched even at just the ghosting of a fingertip on his cheek.

'Why, Bilbo?' Thorin asked hoarsely. 'Why you, why _me?'_

Bilbo bowed his head, Thorin's fingers still lightly brushing the soft skin of his cheek. 'You have to understand-'

Thorin stepped back violently, dropping his hand from Bilbo's face. 'I think I already do.'

'No, you don't!' Bilbo protested, his voice suddenly fierce. 'You can't understand what it was like to tell you the truth. I loved you _desperately_ , Thorin, so much it _hurt_ \- and anything that hurt you hurt me, but I wanted you to have a chance with someone _real._ You deserved the truth!'

'I didn't _want_ somebody real! I only wanted you!' Thorin fired back, all his anger and frustration venting itself as he looked at Bilbo, alone by the wall and looking so small and vulnerable that Thorin had to fight the urge to just hold him. 'Despite everything, no matter how much I've tried so hard to _forget_ you, I still only want you!'

Bilbo looked at him and Thorin turned away, trying to calm his breathing. He shouldn't have said that; he should have kept quiet, Bilbo never said he still loved him-

'Once, the thought of someone knowing me so well that they knew every little thing about me seemed horrifying,' Bilbo said quietly, his voice small in the echoing stairwell. 'But if there's anyone in the world I'd want to see my flaws, it's you.'

Thorin said nothing, staring at his interlocked hands until a small hand lightly touched his arm and he jumped. He turned as the touch left his arm, Bilbo withdrawing his hand and looking down at the floor again; Thorin could see a glint of tears forming at his silence. So Thorin did the only thing he could, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.

Ever so gently, he touched the pad of his thumb to where the little crystal was ready to fall, making Bilbo start and look up at him with wide eyes as Thorin wiped the tear away.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he spoke. 'Maybe we met because of a bet, and maybe we were a lie right from the beginning. But I think...' Thorin bit his lip. He remembered the pain, the hurt at the betrayal... But in what time they'd had together Thorin had known a purer happiness than ever in his life. '... Everyone has to start somewhere, don't they?'

Bilbo looked at him, uncomprehending for a moment, until his face cleared and his lip trembled. 'Thorin-' he said brokenly before collapsing in Thorin's arms, clutching at him like a drowning man to a lifebelt, simply holding him. Thorin buried his face in Bilbo's neck, smiling gently at the way his curls tickled his nose. He'd missed those curls more than he'd thought possible and the simple smell of Bilbo's skin eased the ache in his heart that he'd grown so accustomed to he'd almost forgotten it was there.

'I'm sorry,' Bilbo whispered, his voice catching and breaking as he clutched at Thorin fiercely. 'I'm sorry, I'm _so_ sorry, Thorin, please forgive me-'

Thorin hushed him gently, his own voice cracking with emotion. He had to make sure Bilbo was truly there, truly his; he held him as close as he possibly could and Bilbo only pressed closer, his knuckles turning white as he held onto Thorin. 

'I don't deserve you,' Bilbo's voice sounded muffled from Thorin's chest. 'I love you so much, Thorin, so much I haven't felt anything else-'

Thorin gently quieted him again, stroking his fingers through his curls and pressing soft kisses to Bilbo's hairline. 'Mahal, Bilbo, I missed you. I wanted to hate you but I never could, and every night...' He pressed a kiss to the dark blonde curls. 'Don't ever leave me again, Bilbo Baggins,' he said hoarsely, and Bilbo's answering smile was blurry and his laugh was watery.

Small hands clasped his face close, as Bilbo had done so many times before, warm and safe and his, his, _his_ , and Thorin leant down to capture those lips in a kiss so sweet it hurt, so hot it burned, so wonderful and heart-achingly beautiful that Thorin couldn't breathe. He caught his breath, resting his forehead against Bilbo's.

Bilbo spoke softly. 'I swear to you, Thorin, this isn't a lie or pretence. When I saw you there in the doorway last week...' he trailed off and Thorin felt a slight tremor run through Bilbo's body. He held him closer and pushed away the memories too. 'I couldn't believe you were real.'

'I'm real,' he said softly. 'I'm here.'

He kissed the soft shell of Bilbo's ear, pleased to find that he was still just as sensitive, and released him, holding him at arm's length so he could look at him properly. 'There's just one thing,' he said and Bilbo looked earnest. Thorin's stomach somersaulted as he thought that Bilbo was his again, and he smiled even as his heart hammered. 'I suppose, if... If you... There just remains the problem of your column. You're not sleeping with anyone except me ever again.'

It was Bilbo's turn to smile and he melted against Thorin, his head on his shoulder and Thorin's arms around him.

'I've given it up,' he said softly. 'I'm not writing it anymore. Never again... Not now I've got you.' He linked his fingers with Thorin's. 'I only ever want you. Truly, Thorin.' His voice was quiet and he looked so desperate, his lips trembling slightly even as he gave a tremulous little smile and Thorin believed him. He kissed Bilbo again, fingers finding curly hair and soft skin as Bilbo returned it passionately, desperately, like a thirsty man offered water; they couldn't get enough and all Thorin could think was how right it was to have his Bilbo back in his arms.

_"The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it.”_

_― Nicholas Sparks, At First Sight_

* * *

  _Epilogue_

Winter was almost here, the winds becoming ever more bitter and the days shorter; the boys' cheeks were pink with cold as they ran together, Fíli and Kíli and Frodo throwing what remained of the late autumn leaves from the now bare trees high in the air as they ran through the park.

It would be dark by the time they got home, and Dís would put one of her delicious dinners on the table and Bilbo would coax Thorin from his study to join them. He'd started working from home more often, leaving Dwalin in charge at the office so that he could finish early to be there for the boys and enjoy being a family again.

Dís walked by Bilbo's side, laughing at Fíli as he spluttered against the red-brown leaf that had brushed his lips. They were headed homeward, Frodo staying the night at his new favourite cousins'. It hadn't been easy, so much hurt on both sides for Bilbo and Thorin that had made it impossible to forget all the pain so soon. But gradually, slowly, they had managed to work things out until they learned to trust again and, as summer drew to a close, Thorin had stutteringly asked Bilbo to move in with him, Dís and the boys. Bilbo had been speechless for so long Thorin had thought he would refuse; Bilbo had never had to make an easier decision than that one and had practically thrown himself at Thorin in his haste to reassure him.

Bofur and Nori had teased him about his domesticity, but he returned it with equal fervour; their fluffy antics now they'd finally got together properly were almost as sickeningly heart-warming as his own with Thorin. Perhaps less...tame, but really, could they be blamed when there were children around? And Bilbo had definite plans to rectify that, at some point.

Finally they approached home, Fíli and Kíli and Frodo running ahead and knocking on the door before Dís could get the keys out; Thorin appeared and opened the door for them all. His smile as he kissed Bilbo never failed to make Bilbo's insides melt.

And later, when all three boys were fast asleep and the house was quiet, Bilbo curled up in Thorin's warm arms as they lay in their large bed, simply revelling in the feel of each other. Until Thorin pressed small sweet kisses to Bilbo's face and neck and Bilbo responded in kind, feeling more loved and safe and whole than ever before. They still had a way to go, but Bilbo knew for a certainty he'd go all that way and further in order to keep Thorin close. As for Thorin, he knew he wasn't letting Bilbo go again anytime soon. And Bilbo wasn't complaining.

**Finis**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand it's finished! That's it, folks. Again, _**thank you all so very much for all your support!**_ It makes me so happy to know the nonsense that I come up with is actually enjoyable to read, so thank you! 
> 
> I have another artist who has done art for this story but I'm just waiting for a link to it once she posts it; as soon as I have it I'll put a link to it here. I've seen the pictures already and they're so adorable! Also don't forget to check out Lorien's lovely [ art ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1652777), in case you missed it before.
> 
> My next story will probably be some good ol' fluff, because this was so angsty and it wasn't even supposed to be. My exams are far, far too close for comfort too, however, so unfortunately don't expect much from me. But they're all over by June 19th so perhaps I'll have something written to celebrate then!!! 
> 
> Once more, _massive_ thank you to you all. ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more very soon! And the other chapters aren't this ridiculously long either, but this is just how the story split naturally. Please do let me know what you thought. ^_^


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